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FRANK SWEET 




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OEMS: 



BY 



FRANK SWEET. 



ARRANGED BY THE AUTHOR. 



ILLIJSTEMED 



BOSTON : 

PUBLISHED BY FRANK SWEET. 

1882. 







Copyright, 1882, 
by frank sweet 

ALL BIGHTS BESEBVED. 



frifONTENTS. 



J_-he Golden Years, 


page. 
13 


"Grace" and "Edith," . 


29'' 


Spring, 


30 


Beautiful Ones, . 


32 


Achievement, 


33 


The Little Maiden, 


34 


Victors, 


36 


Sparkling Water, 


37 


Henry W. Longfellow, 


38 


"Ella," . 


40 


Sweet Spirit, 


41 


The Potomac, 


42 


Come to the Mountains, 


44^ 


Assurance, 


48 


Song for May, 


49 


The Hudson, 


50 


My Creed, 


53 


God is Love, 


54 


Finite and Infinite, . 


. 


"Florence," 


5() 


A Mother's Love, 


57 



Vlll 



CONTENTS. 



My Early Home, 

Two Angels, . 

Robin Red-breast, 

"Darling Little May,* 

The Sea : Canto the First, 

The Sea : Canto the Second 

Unseen Flowers, 

Ode to Liberty, 

" God is Light," . 

Time, 

Beautiful, 

Angel of Love, 

Charity, 

A Good Deed, 

Welcome to Spring, 

Your Little " Maudie," 

The Soul, 

The Prairies, . 

Central America, 

Flowers of God, 

Success, 

Home, . 

Light, 

Present and Future, 

My Country, 

June Flowers, 

Gems, 

News Carrier's Address, 

Temples, . 



CONTENTS. 


i\ 


The Beautiful Gate, 


105 


Sunbeams, 


106 


Lines to Alice, 


109 / 


Ministering Angels, 


110 


June, 


112 


A Floral Offering, 


113 


Light in Darkness, 


114 


Queen of Spring, 


116 


Water and Wine, 


118 


Progress, 


119 


Poetry, 


120 


Brother, Come Home, 


122 


Sowing and Reaping, 


124 


Mine, 


125 


Out of Darkness, 


126 


The Beautiful Rain, 


127 


Victory of Temperance, 


128 


Recompense, 


129 


Christmas Echoes, . 


130 


Lake " Tahoe," California, 


132^ 


Autumnal Glory, 


135 


Thought, . 


136 


The German Sweetheart, . 


138 


Album Dedication, 


139 


Life's Mission, 


140 


Take the Sparkling Wine Awj 


lY 5 1 12 


Holy Father, 


143 


God's Dwelling Place, . 


144 


A Wish, 


145 



x CONTENTS. 




Progression, 


146 


The Higher Life, 


147 


The Pilgrim Fathers, 


148 


To the "Sierra Nevadas," 


150 


Installation Hymn, 


151 


Pray for Reapers, . 


152 


New Year's Resolutions, 


154 


Give, 


155 


"The Golden Gate," 


156 


Competence, 


157 


My Angel Name, 


158 


Peace, 


159 


The Angel's Song, 


160 


Aurora, 


163^ 


Good Templar's Invitation, 


164 


Evening, 


165 


Nearer Home, 


166 


The Rain-bow, 


167 


The Voice of God, 


169 


Treasures in Heaven, 


172 


" Tell Me, Darling," . 


173 


One by One, 


174 


Think of Me, 


175 


"A Better Country," 


176 


Purity, . 


177 


Life, .... 


178 


Evermore, 


180 


" Der Schoner Fruhling," 


181 


The Unseen, 


182 



CONTENTS. 


xi 


"Why Stand ye Here Idle?" . 


184 


Love of God, 


185 


Faith, .... 


LSI) 


The Tkiumph, 


187 


True Greatness, 


188 


The Dew-drop's Mission, 


189 


The Silver Wedding, 


190 


Memorial Poem, 


192 


To a Star, 


197 


Autumn, . 


198 


Springs of Joy, . 


200 


" Sic Itur ad Astra," 


201 


Father, Thy Will be Done, 


202 


Over the River, 


204 


Stars, .... 


205 


Our Lives, . 


201) 


Pleasures of Home, 


207 


Summer, . 


208' 


Life's Labor Song, 


212 


My Forest Shrine, 


215 


Boston Public Library, 


216 


Winter, . 


218 


To One in Heaven, 


220 


Evening Hymn, . 


22\ 


Sunday School Semi-centennial, 


222 


In That Bright World, 


229 


The Christmas Bells, 


230 


Memory, . 


231 


Mansions, 


232 



xii CONTENTS. 




The Picnic, . 


234 


Sympathy, 


235 


A Plea for Temperance, 


236 


k < Judge Not," 


239 


Castles, . 


240 


Letter and Spirit, 


241 


Love, . 


242 


The Summer Land, 


244 


Angels of God, 


247 


When Angels Come, 


249 


God is Good, 


251 


Niagara, .... 


252 


Trust in God, 


253 


Orchard Lake, . 


254 


Speak Kindly, 


257 


Thanksgiving, 


258 


Address to College Graduates, 


261 


To the Rose, 


265 


September, . 


2m 


A Christmas Carol, 


268 


Gone, . 


273 


Angels, .... 


274 


Children, . 


277 


A Vision, 


278 


New Year's Eve, 


280 


Will You? 


281 


To the Poets, 


282 


Invocation, 


284 



SWEET'S POEMS. 




THE GOLDEN YEARS. 
I. 

HE Golden Years, on wings of light, 
Are speeding onward evermore ; 
While days and seasons, in their flight, 
Renew their blessings o'er and o'er : 
The flowers scent the soft Spring gale, 
And Harvest treasures never fail. 

II. 

The flowers are just as sweet and fair, 
As in the days when Earth was young ; 

And the bright songsters of the air, 
No sweeter carols ever sung : 

Nor richer fruits crowned Eden's bowers 

Than melt between these lips of ours. 

III. 

The grandest heights of ancient Lore, 
Earth's wiser millions now can reach ; 

And there is still an open door 

Through which the angels come to teach ; 



U POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

And God bestows his gifts most rare, 
In answer to the spirit's prayer ! 

IV. 
Wise things are taught in Nature's book, 

On earth and in the realms afar ; 
And everywhere our eyes may look, 

From tiny flower, to blazing star, — 
We see that in each golden line, 
Unchanging love and wisdom shine ! 

V. 

Low buried in the dust of ages, 
Let the dead Past forever lie ! 

And listen to the Seers and Sages 
Who read the omens in the sky, 

As prophecies of good in store, 

For God's dear children evermore ! 

VI. 

For we are sowing all these years 
The germs of grander things to be, 

That will unfold in glorious spheres 
Which circle through eternity ; 

To reap in the rich harvest time 

Of heaven's own perennial clime. 

VII. 

All loving Avords, and kindly deeds, 
That teach the way of truth and right, 



THE GOLDEN YEARS. 15 

Supply the soul's divinest needs, 
Instilling purer life and light ; 
Until the fact is understood, — 
That Evil is o'ercome with Good. 

VIII. 

The golden star of Virtue shines 

As brightly as in days of eld ; 
And Love as true, the heart inclines 

To those its beauty hath beheld : 
You cannot quench the hallowed flame 
That from the Living Fountain came ! 

IX. 

Grieve not for those far ancient years 
When prophets on the mountains slept ; 

And with sad hearts and bitter tears 
O'er Judah's wanton cities wept : 

Deem not that Israel's songs were far 

More sweet, or grander than ours are ! 

X. 

O, not on Hermon's mount alone, 

The holy angel feet have trod ! 
Nor awed by Sinai's thunder tone 

That men have known a present God ! 
We cannot stray beyond the care 
Of Him who dwelleth everywhere ! 



16 P0E3IS B Y FRANK 8 WEE T. 

XI. 
The early nations never saw 

The light that cheers our onward way ; 
Or learned to rule by Love's sweet law, 

So all can rule, and all obey ; 
And we have liberty and peace, 
Surpassing that of ancient Greece. 

XII. 
The lamps of old have grown too dim 

For us who catch the lightning's gleam 
To light our homes ; and then thank Him 

With joyful souls, who sends the stream 
Of priceless blessings pouring still, 
Our hearts and lives with good to fill. 

XIII. 

The Present is the Golden Age, 
With every land and every race ! 

And I count him the greater Sage, 
Who, in his own true time and place, 

Doth nobly work for truth and right, 

According to his strength and light ! 

XIV. 

The world's destruction is not nigh ; 

Nor is God angry with the race 
Of men, for on the earth or sky, 

No omen can we darkly trace 



THE GOLD EX YEARS. 17 

Of ill ; but shining bright and clear, 
His goodness and his love appear ! 

XV. 

The sun in its diurnal march, 

Returns to warm and light the earth ; 

And nightly in the azure arch 

Above, the golden stars go forth ; 

And the fair moon, the Queen of Night, 

Illumes the earth with mellow light. 

XVI. 

The planets in their courses run 
As smoothly as in days gone by. 

When first sent by the Mighty One, 
Through trackless ether of the sky : 

And comets through the heavens blaze 

As grandly as in ancient days ! 

XVII. 
The Holy God is tracing still, 

In earth below and heaven above, 
The Revelations of his will, 

The sacred records of Jiis love ! 
And faithful souls can understand 
The writings of his mighty hand ! 

XVIII. 

Now superstitions old and gray. 
Are crumbling in the blazing light 



18 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 

Of intellect ; and far away 

The clouds of Error, black as night, 
Are driven by the light of Truth, 
That glories in immortal youth ! 

XIX. 

Sweet Charity, in robes of white, 
Goes forth to succor and to save ; 

And in the silent hours of night, 
The fevered brow doth softly lave ; 

And out of her exhaustless store, 

Gives priceless blessings evermore ! 

XX. 

The holy prophets of the Lord, 
Are with the growing nations still ; 

Who say, with voices in accord, — 

"Man yet shall do the Father's will !" 

In spirit with the heavenly plan — 

Of love to God, and love to man ! 

XXI. 

Those Seeking wisdom, still may go 
Up to the Fountain pure and bright ; 

Where one tithe of the overflow, 

Would guide all human souls aright ; 

And they who cast out hate and pride, 

May have their largest needs supplied. 



THE GOLDEN YEARS. 19 

XXII. 
Truth, like a rainbow, spans the earth 

And gives its rich prismatic hues 
To noble thoughts that have their birth, 

In souls that drink the heavenly dews 
Of inspiration from above, 
And are baptized with light and love ! 

XXIII. 

They cannot live for self alone, 

Who hear the angel voices say, 
In low but unmistaken tone, — 

" All men are brothers ! " but each day 
Go forth some blessing to bestow, 
And therein find true bliss below. 

XXIV. 

Forget the past ! those years of shame, 
When crime shun'd not the light of day; 

And men applied the torch of flame 
Till cities fair in ashes lay ; 

When cruel wrong, and bitter hate, 

Ruled in the Church, and in the State. 

XXV. 

Revere those noble martyrs slain, 
When priestly lust and kingly pride, 

Held their triumphant, wicked reign ; 
And Freedom in her temple died. 



20 POEMS B Y FliANK S WEET. 

Rejoice ! that God has made men strong, 
To rend the gates and chains of wrong ! 

XXVI. 
Rejoice ! that in this land of ours. 

All races may with freedom dwell ; 
And every soul unfold its powers 

In chosen ways, and all is well : 
For virtue, love and truth increase, 
With larger liberty and peace ! 

XXVII. 
No more they wait the favoring breeze, 

Who cross the ocean far and wide ; 
With ships of steel, they plow the seas 

Against the current, wind and tide ; 
While through the cables deep below, 
Our thoughts on wings of lightning go ! 

XXVIII. 
With chariots of fire we ride 

Swift as the wind across the land : 
And see those things on every side, 

That Genius gave the toiling hand ; 
So mortals could more leisure find, 
To cultivate the heart and mind. 

XXIX. 

Good women, that in days of yore, 
Did turn the mills to grind the grain. 



THE GOLD EX YEABS. 21 

Have ceased such toil, and evermore 

Will occupy a higher plain ; 
In realms of science and of art, 
They share with men a rightful part. 

XXX. 

Rejoice, in what the years have brought ! 

And hope for what they yet will bring ; 
When man, no more the slave of thought, 

Shall wear the signet of a king ; 
And nobly think, and bravely do, 
What God and conscience says is true. 

XXXI. 

The things that are, will pass away ; 

For earth has grander things in store, 
To crown with glory every day, 

All through the ages evermore ; 
Though brightest eyes but dimly see, 
Those better things that are to be ! 

XXXIL 

The grand Republics of to-day, 

To yet more glorious heights will rise ! 

While Monarchies will pass away 

Like flying clouds that leave the skies 

Above the nations clear and bright ; 

Refulgent with celestial light ! 



22 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 

XXXIII. 

The nations are more closely drawn 
Together now, than e'er before ; 

And this is but the early dawn 
Of golden days that are in store ; 

Whose glory ever will increase, 

Beneath the white-winded dove of Peace ! 

XXXIV. 

The Crescent, and the Cross departs 
From earth ; but in the heavens above, 

God still reveals to human hearts, 
The holy Circle, type of Love ; 

And all will learn in earth abroad, 

This geometric sign of God ! 

XXXV. 

But the Iconoclast must go 

And break the idols of the world ; 

Ere Love, bright ano-el here below. 
With her white banner wide unfurled, 

Can conquer all the hosts of Hate, 

And lead them up to Heaven' s gate ! 

XXXVI. 

Fair Science, with her golden key. 
Unlocks the chambers of the earth ; 

Swings back the gates of mystery, 
And hidden truths spring into birth, 



THE GOLDEN YEARS. 2$ 

Out of the deep archaic gloom, 
Of Nature's ever-fruitful womb ! 

XXXVII. 

Up through the corridors of time. 
The hymn of circling years will roll, 

And gather melody sublime, 
Entrancing each aspiring soul ; 

Until those things it shall behold, 

That poet seers — in songs foretold ! 

XXXVIII. 
Far sweeter flowers will scent the air, 

And richer fruits on earth will grow ; 
While future nations everywhere 

A grander life will learn to know ; 
And human souls more highly prize 
The pearl of Wisdom from the skies ! 

XXXIX. 

Then will each noble deed and thought, 

Into the warp and woof of life, 
Like golden threads be ever wrought ; 

And mankind leave their selfish strife. 
And learn at last in life's grand school 
To love and live — " The Golden Rule." 

XL. 
Rejoice ! that day is dawning now ; 
The twilight flush is on the sky, 



24 POEMS B Y FBANK 8 WEET. 

And on the eastern mountain's brow 

The floods of golden light doth lie : 
Whose streams will ever downward flow, 
Baptizing all the world below. 

XLI. 

O, soon will fall the mighty stroke 
To rend the nation's bonds in twain ; 

Break the oppressor's galling yoke, 
And make the way of freedom plain ! 

Then Right shall triumph over Wrong, 

And Peace sing her immortal song ! 

XLII. 

Fierce will the coming conflict be ; 

For mighty issues are at stake : 
But all the Nations must be Free ! 

And every soul have right to make 
A home in all the wide earth where 
It may life's common blessings share. 

XLIII. 

(), Europe ! thou hast kept too long, 
The fires of freedom smothered in 

Thy breast ! withheld what doth belong 
To all thy children : — Soon will begin 

The final strife that makes them free ; 

Then Peace will hold her Jubilee ! 



THE GOLDEN YEARS. 25 

XLIV. 
I know thy chains are strong ; but yet 

The sceptre of thy kingly power 
Is broken ; and the time is set 

For great deliverance ! The ho ni- 
ls drawing nigh, wherein I see 
Thy sons assert their Liberty. 

XLV. 
A mighty voice from heaven declares 

Against thy many deeds of wrong ; 
The pitfalls, and the secret snares, 

That thou hast made to check the strong 
And true, who struggled for the right, 
In thy dark days, and prayed for light ! 

XLVI. 

Those fervent prayers were not in vain ; 

Although the answer was delayed ; 
They set in motion a long train 

Of great events that paved the grade 
Of Progress, which thy children climb, 
To heights more glorious and sublime ! 

XLVII 
From one point of infinite space, 

Where but a ray of wisdom shines, 
We are too limited to trace 

Our heavenly Father's wise designs ; 



2< i POEMS B T FRANK S WEE T. 

But see upon the general plan. 
His purposes of good — to man. 

XLVIII. 

Thou, my Country ! Thou must' be 
The o-uidinof star of all the earth ! 

The world-wide nations turn to thee, 

The land of Freedom's primal birth, 
To learn thy lessons, and to see 
The treasures of thy Liberty ! 

XLIX. 

1 know thy trials and thy tears ; 

The mighty struggles that are past ; 
The conflict of thy hopes and fears, 

The glorious victory at last : — 
Mid furnace fires thy feet have trod, 
To gain the smile and peace of God ! 

L. 
O, pause not in thy grand career ! 

To yet more glorious heights ascend : 
Lift up the toiling millions here, 

And every noble cause defend : — 
Then blessings from celestial spheres, 
Will crown for aye — The Golden Years ! 

-Ian. 1882. 




^race and Edith. 



• GRACE' AXD "EDITH." 29 



GRACE" AXD "EDITH." 



jiSWO sweet little girls 
g^ With their golden curls, 
And eyes of clearest blue ; 
With the pleasing grace 
Of each form and face, 
1 would portray to you. 

But no thought of mine 
Can reach the divine. 

That fills each heart and soul ; 
For their perfect love. 
Like a heavenly dove, 

Leads to life's brightest goal. 

O, a fountain of bliss 

Flows out with each kiss 
Their cherry-red lips impart ; 

The light of their eyes, 

Like an angel, flies 
To bless each loving heart ! 



30 POMMS B T FBANK S WJEET 



SPRING. 

Sa©$|AREF( )OTED Spring comes tripping o'er 
IM& } the mountains, 

And flings a robe of green on every tree ; 
She gives a sweeter song to all the fountains, 

And fills the world with richer melody. 

She scents the breeze with the sweet breath of 
roses, 
And pours life's nectar from a thousand 
springs ; 
While in my heart a sweeter joy reposes, 
And like a bird, my spirit soars and sings. 

New life to nature's countless forms she giveth. 

The snow-white daisy with its golden eye, 
Shines in the meads; and every thing that 
liveth, 

Delights to honor her that passes by. 

Sweet Spring ! thou art the fairest of the 
fairies ; — - 
At thy soft touch, earth's beauteous forms 
arise : 



8PBING. 31 

And where thy sweet and grateful presence 
tarries, 
Fair flowers breathe their fragrance to the 
skies. 

The farmers now the fields with grain are 

sowing ; 

While lambs are skipping on the distant hills. 

Filled to their brims the rivers now are flowing, 

While through the meadows dance the 

sparkling rills. 

The lovely children through the meads are 
straying, 
Who fill with shouts and songs the golden 
day ; 
While soft wind-harps among the groves are 
playing, 
The earth and sky are clothed with bright 
array. 

Now while the wild-flowers are upward spring- 
ing ; 
While hills and vales by Flora's feet are trod ; 
With Nature's countless voices sweetly sing- 
ing ; — 
I lift my heart and soul w r ith theirs — to God ! 



32 POEMS BY FBANK SWEET. 

BEAUTIFUL ONES. 

s^MeAUTIFUL ones are those who go 
«%y Where love and duty lead, 
With kindly blessings to bestow 
On every soul in need. 

Beautiful ones are those who preach 
Love's gospel to the poor, 

With srentle words and deeds that reach 
Beyond the heart's closed door. 

Beautiful ones are those indeed, 

In all the earth abroad, 
Who clothe the poor, the hungry feed ;— 

For they are ' ' sons of God ! " 

Beautiful ones are those who calm 
The burning throbs of pain ; 

And help sad ones to sing Life's psalm 
With hope and joy again. 

Beautiful ones who lead mankind 
In peaceful ways of love ; 

For they in God's own time, will find 
A Heaven of Joy above ! 



ACHIEVEMENT. 33 

ACHIEVEMENT. 
I. 

.t^ASTING out all hate and malice, 
^Sg, Let us fill life's golden chalice 
With the sacred wine of love ! 
Then we shall receive a blessing 
That the inmost soul possessing 
Will enjoy in spheres above. 

II. 
And with every wrong forgiven, 
We can climb the way to heaven 

With a gentle, easy grace ; 
And beyond the shining portals, 
In the land of the immortals, 

Find a happy dwelling place ! 

III. 
Then in Life's eternal morning. 
Brightest crowns our heads adorning, 

We may roam the fields abroad ; 
Fadeless flowers there entwining ; 
And with forms and raiment shining— 

Greet the loving smiles of God ! 



34 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 



THE LITTLE MAIDEN. 

§ LITTLE maiden, sweet and fair, 
With sunny brow, and golden hair ; 
With ruby lips, and sparkling eyes, 
Of brighter azure than the skies — 
I met one day. 

Her heart was full as it could be, 
Of youthful innocence and glee ; 
While with elastic step she trod 
Among the fair, young flowers of God, 
Where she was queen. 

The robe of Purity enshrined 
Her lovely form, and happy mind : 
And angels in their home above, 
Could give no sweeter, richer love — 
Than she bestowed. 

How little then she seemed to know 
Of this wide world of sin and woe ; 
For these could have no counterpart 
Within her pure and cheerful heart, 
All full of song. 



THE LITTLE MAIDEN. 35 

My hand upon her head I laid, 
And in my inmost soul I prayed, — 
That God would bless her youthful days, 
And fill her life with love and praise, 
And give her peace. 

And grant to her an angel guide, 
To shield from ill on every side ; 
And teach her in the days of youth, 
To love the Lord, and love his truth, 
Through endless years. 

That in the sometime, she may stand 
With feet upon the golden strand, 
Arrayed in shining robes of white, 
Where fadeless flowers kiss the light 
Of endless day. 

I did not pray for her alone ; — 
From my full heart, before God's throne, 
I prayed that all might seek his face, 
And taste the riches of his grace, 
And share his love. 

That all the straying ones might find 
Content of heart, and peace of mind ; 
And by true faith, and deeds of love, 
Tn our good Father's house above, 
Secure a home. 



36 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

And dwell amid immortal bovvers, 
Where ever-blooming, fadeless flowers 
Enrich with sweetness all the air. 
And with celestial spirits share 
The love of God. 




VICTORS. 

! IIEY are not the victors only, 
In the fields of mortal strife, 
Who survive the final conflict, 
With unshattered limb and life. 

All who for their love of Justice, 
Flash the sword of truth on high 

In the front of life's great battle, — 
They shall conquer though they die. 

The true hero and the victor, 
Is the one who conquers sin ; 

By controling every passion 
That disturbs the soul within. 



SPARKLING WATER. 37 

SPARKLING WATER. 

A SONG. 



MjM^' THE water ! Sparkling bright, 
/bQ<£> Flowing onward to the sea : 
Dashing crystal beads of light, 

On the rocks for you and me : 
Better far than ruby wine, 
Is this nectar so divine. 



Bubbling from the crystal spring 
'Neath the wild wood's leafy shade 

Where the birds so sweetly sing, 

Flows the drink that God has made ; 

While the ripples dance and play 

In the golden light of day. 

While the gentle showers fall, 
And the pleasant waters flow 

Out in living streams to all, 

Making music sweet and low : — 

Drink the water pure and bright, 

Sparkling in the liquid light. 



38 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEE T. 



HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 



'^r'zt tj '*> 



&JjW£ONE from the scenes of earthly strife, 
jjt§@ Into those realms by angels trod ; — 
To sins: a sweeter "Psalm of Life," 
On the eternal hills of God ! 

Willi kindly word, and noble deed, 
He filled the measure of his years ; 

"Fill like a bird from bondage freed, 
His spirit rose to brighter spheres. 



The darling children loved him well ; 

Because he had a child-like heart ; 
Their bosoms did with rapture swell — 

To find in his a counterpart. 

He had for all, a heart of love ; 

His voice was heard on Freedom's side ;- 
And thus he gained that home above, 

Among the blest and glorified ! 

Emblazoned on the dome of fame, 

In characters of living light, 
The millions yet will read his name, 

And learn from him to love the Right. 



HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 39 

The echoes of his songs will ring 

Down through the corridors of Time ; 

And unto many hearts will bring 
The treasures of a life sublime ! 

Though in a radiant world of bliss 
He wears a jeweled robe of white ; 

His foot-prints on the sands of this, 
Will lead to purer life and light. 

Where Wisdom's sacred fountain flows. 

He drinks the pearly drops of Truth ; 
And there his soul with beauty glows — 

Eenascent with immortal youth ! 

In yonder fair, celestial bowers, 

Far grander songs he now will sing ; 

And drink the odors of the flowers 

That bloom in Life's perennial Spring ! 

Love — was for him the golden key 
To shining mansions of the blest ; 

Where his irradiant soul will be 
Forevermore, the angel's guest. 

Boston, March 27th, 1882. 



40 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 



"ELLA." 

INSCRIBED TO MR. AND MRS. W. T. BAIRD. 

nMm'N'E vacant chair beside thy hearth, 
Y$$r4> O ne happy circle riven ; 
One cherub passed from scenes of earth, 
To yonder, blissful heaven. 

The tiny hand that slipped from thine, 
So fondly clasped while praying, 

An angel's finders now entwine, 

Where thy bright one is straying. 

Pure as the stainless snow-white flowers - 
She's gone in early youth, 

To roam among immortal bowers, 
And gather love and truth. 

No more these earthly scenes can mar 
That soul of priceless worth ; 

But it will shine — a glorious star — 
In spheres of holier birth. 



The golden chain of love is strong. 
That binds her soul to thine ; 



SWEET SPIRIT. 41 

And you will join that angel throng, 
In life and love divine. 



SWEET SPIRIT. 




j^HpHEN the burden of my care, 

Seemeth more than I can bear,- 
O, sweet Spirit ! hear my prayer. 
And comfort me ! 

When the clouds are dark as night : 
O sweet Spirit ! give me light ! 
Fill my soul with glad delight ! 
And thus bless me ! 

O, thou bright and holy Dove ! 
From the shining land above, 
With sweet peace, and joy and love : — 
Bless even me ! 




42 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 



THE POTOMAC. 



|jED by unnumbered living springs, 
On yonder mountains clad with blue, 
Where evermore the dark storm-kings 

In triumph reign the whole year through ; 
With meadows fair on either side, 
In sparkling beauty down ye glide, 
E'er flowing onward bright and free, 
Out to the wild Atlantic sea ! 

II. 

A thousand sacred memories fling 

Resplendent glories o 'er thy breast ; 
And from the storied past they bring 
Mementoes of the good and blest. 
Here lived that hero true and brave, 
Whose ashes sleep in Vernon's grave, 
Who triumphed by his good deeds done : — 
The fair immortal Washington ! 

III. 
In this grand city by thy side, 

Our Nation's glory and our boast, 
That drinks life from thy crystal tide 

As it flows onward to the coast ; 



THE POTOMAC. 43 

O, may here dwell true men and great, 
To guide the glorious ship of State ! 
Who will be noble, brave and strong, 
And not be bribed to do the Wrong ! 



IV. 

Forever may thy waters flow 

In rythmic measure to the sea ; 
And earth, and skies that brightly glow, 

Reflected on thy surface be ; 
And may thy bosom never cease 
To bear the argonauts of peace ; 
Nor take the glory of thy charms 
Away from rich, ancestral farms ! 

V. 

The fertile flelds on either side, 

Now shine with ranks of tasseled corn 
And all the hills are glorified 

Where fruits reflect the light of morn. 
The sun, that heavenly alchemist, 
No fairer stream hath ever kissed. 
Flow on, Potomac ! bright and free, 
As this sweet song I sing of thee ! 



U POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 



COME TO THE MOUNTAINS. 



^^pOME to the mountains that grandly rise 
p§^j In rocky peaks to sapphire skies. 
The silvery mists that fill the vale, 
Are cleared away by the mountain gale. 

The sparkling brooks, with musical flow, 
And myriad blooms in the vales below, 
Pouring their sweets on the balmy air, 
Allure our thoughts from this world of care. 

Those clouds that float in the nether blue, 
Veiling the land from a broader view, 
Symbolize the mist that intervenes 
Between our souls and celestial scenes. 

O, come away ! from the busy street, 
Trodden by a thousand restless feet ; 
And roam o'er these hills, free as the breeze, 
And catch the spirit of its melodies ! 

For the mountain breeze inspires thought : 
By it the fabric of health is wrought ; — 
When the mountain air thy bosom fills, 
Thou wilt leap with joy, like laughing rills. 




IATiiite Mountains, 



VIEW FROM LITTLETON. N. II. 



COME TO THE MOUNTAINS, 



The tinkling bells of the bleating herds, 
Chime with the music of singing birds : 
The honey bees in their toilsome flight, 
Gather the sweets of the blossoms white. 



Come, if thy soul is the least oppressed ! 
( )r thy mind doth feel a vague unrest ; 
Or thy heart be filled with musings sad ; 
Come, the freedom here will make thee glad ! 

Come and learn those lessons all untold, 
Learned by the saints and sages of old. 
Who to the mountains did oft repair, 
And gather gems of heavenly wisdom there. 

Come and breathe this purer atmosphere ! 
Come and seek for strength and wisdom here ! 
O, come and rest on the mountain sod, 
And hold communion with nature's God ! 

White Mountains. August, 1871. 



48 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

ASSURANCE. 
I. 

ffl$HILE the heavens smile above us. 
i^p And the angel ones that love us 
Come to cheer our hearts ; 
Fly away the clouds of sadness ; 
Come the rainbow tints of gladness 
That sweet Hope imparts ! 

II. 

Then we have surcease of sorrow 
That the soul assumed to borrow 

From our servile fears, 
Built on Theologic scandal, 
Or the myths of some base vandal 

Of the by-gone years ! 

III. 

And we climb the heights supernal, 
To Love's fountain-spring, eternal, 

Where the pure have trod ; 
Till with wider, clearer vision, 
We shall see our home Elysian, 

In the light of God ! 




SONG- FOB MAY. 49 



SONG FOR MAY. 

^EAUTIFUL flowers are springing 
r Jfy In every valley fair ; 
The beautiful birds are singing 
And flitting through the air. 

Beautiful children are playing 
Out in the meadows bright, 

And they seem like angels straying 
In beautiful robes of white. 

Beautiful music is flowing 

On every gentle breeze ; 
Beautiful blossoms are blowing 

Off from the orchard trees. 

Beautiful lovers are walking- 
Out in the vernal bowers ; 

A beautiful language talking, 
In all the golden hours. 

The beautiful skies are bending" 
In azure grandeur o 'er us ; 

While zephyr and streamlet blending, 
Wake a beautiful chorus. 



60 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 



THE HUDSON. 



* 



|i> AGNIFICENT, and lovely stream I 

|g Eejoicing I would sing of thee ! 
The beams of morning on thee gleam, 
While flowing onward pure and free. 
No fairer valley lies 
Beneath the azure skies ; 
For corn, if not for wine, 
More famous than the Rhine. 

Calm and majestic thou dost flow 

Along beside the fields of grain ; 
And by the bustling towns ye go 
To reach thy home in yonder main. 
The glory and the pride 
Thou art, of homes beside 
Thy ever-flowing tide, 
Where peace and joy abide ! 

A thousand vessels thou dost bear, 

Laden with grain and merchandise, 
Upon thy bosom bright and fair, 
That takes the glory of the skies ; 

On through the changeful shades 
Of frowning Palisades, 



THE HUDSON. 51 

Till those vast stores are laid 
In bustling jnarts of trade. 

Bright river ! if I now could read 
Thy history on earth and sky ; 
Romantic it would be indeed, 

With strange events of years gone by. 
Thy records graven deep, 
Oblivion doth keep ; 
And Nature holds the key 
Of every mystery. 

The Indians with joy and song, 

Dipt in thy waves the graceful oar. 
And plied the birch canoe along 
Thy banks, in days gone evermore : 
Now from these scenes they stray 
In forests far away ; 
And still at mid-day dream 
Of this delightful stream. 

Gone are the artless maids who trod 
The paths beside thy waters clear : 
And roam the western wilds abroad, 
The chief, the hunter, and the seer ! 
Thy beauty still remains ; 
And in poetic strains 
I weave thy name to-day, — 
To live and breathe for aye ! 



52 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEE T. 

The pleasure vessels now are seen, 

That glide across thy dimpled face. 
And all thy hills, and vales between, 
Are peopled with a grander race ; 
While garden, mead and field, 
Their richest treasures yield : 
Thus kindly Nature pours 
Out her abundant stores. 

A sweet and gentle spirit dwells 

Here in thy valley bright and fair ; 
And from my soul to heaven wells 
Its purest and its holiest prayer ; 
And Nature doth inspire, 
As with seraphic fire, 
Thoughts of a present God ! 
When this fair vale is trod. 

Bright Hudson ! take my parting song, 
And weave it with thy music sweet ; 
And every joyful note prolong 

Till earth and heaven seem to meet ! 
And every rythmic word, 
On hills afar be heard ; 
For on thy face divine, 
The love of God doth shine ! 



MY VBEED. 53 



MY CREED. 




Y Creed is Love ; and Love is God 
In all the Universe abroad, 

There is no other light 

To £iiide the soul ariffht : 
But Love, from lowest depths of Hate, 
Lifts man up to a high estate ; 

Fits him for spheres of bliss, 

Ere he departs from this. 
It brings the blessed angels near, 
With their rich gift of love to cheer 

And guide us in the way 

That leads to perfect day. 
Love gives sweet Peace to all mankind ; 
And doth all men and angels bind 

To God with links of syold : 

Therefore I firmly hold, 
That human souls can never need 
A more complex, or larger Creed ; 

For all below, above, 

Are Saved and kept, by LOVE ! 




54 POEMS B Y FliANK S WEET. 



''GOD IS LOVE." 

A SONG. 

HEN in Spring, our Father's hand 
Clothes with beauty all the land ; 
At the early dawn of day, 
In and out the dewy spray, 
Countless voices seem to say — 
God is Love. 

When this changeful world of ours 
Wears a lovely robe of flowers ; 
And the clear and sparkling rills 
Sing adown the vine-clad hills ; 
This sweet song the spirit tills — 
God is love ! 

This grand truth doth light and cheer 
All His children's pathway here ; 
Making all the world to shine 
With a glory more divine, 
That the purest hearts enshrine — 
God is Love. 



Out beneath the vernal bowers, 
Ever in the golden hours, 

Children, whose young hearts are true, 



FINITE AND INFINITE. 55 

Sing this song forever new, 
And my heart is singing too — 
God is Love. 

High in yonder spheres of light, 

Clad in raiment pure and white, 
There in Life's eternal Spring, 
May we make the mansions ring 
With this choral angels sing — 
God is Love. 



FINITE AND INFINITE. 



AraSJlKE one bright drop of pearly dew, 
Sl@£ Unto the mighty sea ; 
Or like one golden hour of time. 

To vast eternity ; — 
So each immortal human soul, 

Is to the Deity ! 




56 POEMS B Y FBANK 8 WEET. 



"FLORENCE." 

INSCRIBED TO MR. AND MRS. J. M. De FRANCE, ON THE 
TRANSITION OF FLORENCE MAY De FRANCE. 



IJSHY darling child from earthly strife, 
Safe from the snares of sin, 
To blissful realms of purer life, 
Plas joyfully entered in. 

The flowers of golden hue or white, 
May bloom and soon decay : 

The Reaper came and took the bright 
And lovely flower away. 

By Life's bright river she wanders now, 

Kept by a Father's hand : 
A crown of glory decks her brow 

Among the angel band. 

Free as the pure and ambient air, 
She roams that land above ; 

And in a home of beauty there 
Abides, where all is love. 

Love's golden chain will yet unite 

In spheres of holier birth ; 
For in that home of heavenly light, 

She 11 greet the loved of earth. 



A MOTHER'S LOVE. 

As you think of that lovely face 

That shines where angels dwell ; 

O, trust in God for needful grace ! 
k ' He doeth all things well." 



A MOTHER'S LOVE. 



|^m|OW I love that magic word 
£^/§r That my inmost soul hath heard 
Like our Father's perfect Love, 
Sent by angels from above, — 
Is a mother's love ! 

Watching oft with sleepless eyes, 
While the stars are in the skies. 
By the darling of her heart : 
Fearing soon it might depart — 
From its mother's love ! 

In our joy, or sad distress, 

With a ready hand to bless ; 
Nothing grander that I know, 
Lights the path of life below, — 
Than a mother's love ! 




58 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 



MY EARLY HOME. 



|ENEATH the clear New England skies, 
Baptized with light, a valley lies, 
Where purest breezes ever roam ; — 
There was my dearest, Early Home ! 

And there the ceaseless gushing springs 
Of wine that health and beauty brings, 
Form countless rills that glide and glow 
Like silver lines through vales below. 

I love those hills that tower so high ; 
And lucid springs that never dry : 
While in the golden sunlight gleams 
The ripples of a thousand streams ! 

The little lake among the hills, 
Supplies the stream that turns the mills 
And murmurs sweetly on its way, 
Through valleys decked with flowers gay. 

The singing brook, the grove, and dell, 
Are dearer far than words can tell ; — 
For there in Life's sweet sunny Spring, 
I learned such songs as these to sing. 



M Y EARL Y HOME. 59 

Sweet memory brings them back to me, 
Their wondrous beauty now I see ; 
That lovely spot where oft I played 
Beside the sparkling, white cascade. 

Bright pictures in my heart I keep, 
Of sunny vale, and hill-side steep ; 
The orchard that I wandered through , 
Barefooted in the morning dew ; 

Seeking the first-fruits as they fell 
Beneath the trees I loved so well : 
Or ^fathered from the boughs o'erhead, 
Those luscious fruits all ripe and red. 

The shy trout in the meadow brook, 
Oft nibbled lightly at my hook, 
Then darted 'neath the bank away, 
As if my motive were but play. 

And oft I climbed the mountain there. 
To get a view more grand and fair, 
Of proud Moosilauke's lofty brow 
Far east ; — I seem to see it now ! 

There when the early twilight fell, 
Like golden veil, o'er hill and dell ; 
Such hallowed peace to me was given, 
It seemed the very ''gate of heaven/' 



60 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 

One gentle voice, I heard in youth, 
That taught the way of love and truth, 
Now chimes with sweet angelic strains 
That echo o'er celestial plains ! 

My early friends I loved so dear, — 
Still in my heart I keep them here ; 
And naught the mystic tie shall sever ; 
For Love's embrace can hold them ever 

I've wandered o'er my native land, 
Its prairies wide, and mountains grand ; 
Yet shines on that New-England hill, 
A beacon to my spirit still ! 

Sorrows and joys go hand in hand, 
But Life is glorious and grand ; 
Since everywhere on earth I roam, 
My heart keeps thee, My Early Home ! 

Summit Prairie, 1867. 



TWO ANGELS. 61 



TWO ANGELS. 

^SnE was a father's darling ; 
fp|^ A bright and noble boy, 
Whose very heart and spirit 

Were full of light and joy : — 
The angels came to him one day, 

Down from the world above, 
And took the little child away 

To endless light and love. 

One was a mother's cherub, 

A fair and lovely girl, 
Whose forehead shone with beauty 

Beneath each clustering curl : 
W^ith rosy cheeks, and eyes of light, 

Bright was the path she trod ; — 
But angels came in robes of white, 

And took her home to God. 

And now they are his angels, 

In that pure home on high ; 
And roam that land of beauty, 

Beneath a cloudless sky : — 
Sweet was the love they did impart 

Ere they had gone abroad : 
But O, they left within each heart - 

The loving smiles of God ! 




62 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 



ROBIN RED -BREAST. 

OBIN red-breast sings to me, 
§> On the blossomed apple tree ; 
All the notes are sweet and clear, 
Such as I delight to hear : 

In the early morning hours, 
Ere the sun has kiss'd the flowers. 
Or has lit the pearls of dew 
With a brilliant roseate hue. 

I rejoice to hear you sing, 

Sweetest chorister of Spring ! 
At the early dawn of day 
Ere the mists have cleared away. 

And I love the evening song 
That you sing so clear and strong, 

Ere you fold your wings to rest : — 
Gentle bird, with crimson vest ! 

Full of joy and sweetest praise, 
Was my heart in childhood's days, 

When your carols seemed a prayer 
On the flower-scented air ! 




DaKLIXG filTTLE M^ 



<:' : ■ 



" DARLING LITTLE MA F." 65 

■ DARLING LITTLE MAY." 

A SONG. 

WL THE darling little May ! 
\$ Blithe and joyous all the day, 
With a kiss for every one ; 
With a sweet and smiling face, 
Gifted with a charming grace, 

She will make her share of fun. 

O, the happy little May ! 
Searching flowers far away ; 

Gathering the blossoms white : 
May she keep her heart alway 
Pure and sweet and fair as they ; 

And her life be full of light ! 

O, the merry little May ! 
Witty words she has to say ; 

For she is surpassing wise ; 
With fair cheeks, and eyes of blue 
Bathed with heaven's richest hue, — 

Like an angel from the skies ! 



66 POEMS B Y FRANK SWEET. 

THE SEA. 

CANTO THE FIRST. 

%fiw& THOU, the mighty throbbing Sea ! 

$$$¥$ What can I sing in praise of thee 
When thy fierce anger raves, 
Strong are thy mountain waves, 

And human treasures thou dost heap 

In rocky caverns cold and deep. 

You dash the vessel on the rocks, 
And with your strong, incessant shocks 

Doth shatter keel and deck, 

Till it is made a wreck ; 
And that transcendent work of years. 
Goes down with human hopes and fears. 

And thou dost take no passing thought 
Of all the ruin thou hast wrought ! 

Sometimes thou seemest to smile — 

But only to beguile 
Some seamen to thy treacherous breast, 
And ruin them at thy behest. 

I know full well whereof I write ; 
For on one dark and stormy night, 



THE SEA. 67 

I felt thy scathing lash, 
And heard the awful crash — 

When thy fierce waves did smite away 

Part of the ship, to our dismay. 

And thy foam-crested waves did break 
Over the topmost deck, and make 

Their way through hatch and door 

And deluge every floor ; — 
Then piercing shrieks of wild despair 
Rang out upon the midnight air ! 

O, fret and foam, and spend your strength ! 
But there will come a time at length, 

When thy proud waves will cease. 

And thou shalt give release 
To all the prisoners in thy cells, 
Beneath thy bosom's angry swells. 

A force beneath thy waves doth lie, 
That lifts the islands toward the sky ; 

And this w T ide earth so grand, 

One continent of land, 
Will yet be thickly peopled o 'er, 
And thou, O Sea ! will be no more ! 




68 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 

CANTO THE SECOND. 
I. 

„ SUN-KISSED Sea ! majestic Sea I 
I wake my harp to sing of thee ! 
Bright wavelets grace 
Thy dimpled face ; 
And where I stand upon the strand, 
Thou com'st to kiss the pearly sand, 
And softly lave my feet ! 

II. 

Sweet songs ring o'er the summer sea, 
From merry-makers, glad and free ; 

While boys and girls 

With sunny curls, 
And grace divine, bathe in the brine 
Where thy uncounted jewels shine, — 
No mortal eyes may greet. 

III. 

O, thou delightful, cooling Sea ! 
The balmy breezes sigh for thee ! 

Across the bay 

The ripples play ; 
And o'er thy tide, so fair and wide, 
The little pleasure vessels glide ; 
And joyous hearts are here. 



THE SEA. 69 

IV. 
I walk beside the crystal sea 
Whence gentle breezes come to me ; 
While plash of oars 
Along the shores 
Reverberate till day is late ; 
The sun goes out the western gate. 
And stars shine bright and clear. 

V. 

O thou, the bright translucent Sea ! 
The mirrored clouds across thee flee ; 

And argosies 

Before the breeze, 
Without a jar to lands afar, 
Are guided by the Polar star ; — 
Where mystic needles turn. 

VI. 

So charming is the flowing sea, 
A theme for Poets it will be, 
While iris shells 
Borne by the swell:-*. 
Float to the land, and in the hand 
Reveal their mysteries so grand : — 
I bow my head to learn. 

VII. 

O thou, the sweetly murmuring sea ! 
Thou sing'st thy own strange melody ; 



70 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEE T. 

While stars at night, 

Like jewels bright, 
All gleam and shine with light divine, 
And that irradiant breast of thine 
Reflects each golden hue ! 

VIII. 

While here I stand, O sparkling Sea ! 
And hear the songs of childhood's glee ; 
And from thy shells 
A sound like bells 
Doth greet my ear ; I seem to hear 
A prophecy so strange and clear, — 
I know it must be true. 

IX. 

O thou, the deep, unmeasured Sea ! 
Thou shalt unfold thy mystery ! 
Thy gems concealed 
Will be revealed ; 
For here to-day, a voice doth say : — 
That thou, O Sea ! must pass away ; 
And earth bid you — Adieu ! 




UNSEEN FLO WEBS. 71 



UNSEEN FLOWERS. 



jit^HERE are many unseen flowers 
jjffc That the richest sweets impart ; 
Blooming in this world of ours, 
In the gardens of the heart. 

heavenly dews will ever fall 

On the flowers of peace and love, 

Giving sweetness unto all, 
Such as angels share above. 

May these lovely flowers grow, 
And their blessings rich impart ; 

Brightening with heavenly glow, 
Sweetly blooming in each heart. 

Every heart that bears a flower, 
Makes the w T orld a brighter place ; 

Cheering every passing hour, 
With a sweet angelic grace. 

Love's pure flowers will ever shine, 
And will grow more fair and bright ; 

Breathing in the soul divine, 

Heavenly hope, and joy, and light. 




72 POEMS B Y FRANK SWEET. 



ODE TO LIBERTY. 

FOR JULY FOURTH. 

iE meet this day, to breathe anew 
Our sacred vows to Liberty ; 
And many pleasant scenes review, 
In the bright fields of memory 

May Freedom reign, and Peace prevail, 
Throughout Columbia's fair domain ; 

And wave in every summer gale, 
The fruitful fields of golden grain. 

Talk not to us of Grecian Isles, 
Enrobed in beauty o'er the sea ; 

While Liberty around us smiles, 

This blessed land our home shall be. 

Let all in harmony unite 

To celebrate the glorious day, 

When Freedom from its darkest night, 
Arose to shine a Star — for aye ! 

Our Father ! we would not forget, 
That thou hast ever been our guide ; 

And pray that in the future yet, 
Thy presence may with us abide. 



ODE TO LIBERTY. 73 

The fearful storms of wrong are past, 
And Hate lies buried in the dust ; 

And thou O, God of Love ! at last, 
Art all this mighty nation's trust. 

Fan thou the flame of love anew, 
That each may act a Brother's part : 

Each soul, to every other soul, be true ; 
So Peace shall bind us, heart to heart. 

Lord make us feel, if so thou will, 
These blessings crowning us to-day, 

Will yield to greater blessings still. 
While years uncounted roll away ! 

Thou knowest that perils round us lie. — 
0, grant us men, the good and great. 

Endued with wisdom from on high, 
To guide the glorious ship of State ! 

We welcome here from distant shores, 
Those bowed beneath oppression's rod ; 

And every grateful heart implores 
For them, the Liberty of God. 



74 FOEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



GOD IS LIGHT.' 



! -r. 



|tt ! WHEN the sun uprises bright, 

I^M 3 And floods the mountains o'er with light, 

And sends afar its brightest beams 

To gild the quiet valley streams, — 

On every hill by Morning trod, 

We see the loving smile of God 

The sunbeams flash along the hills, 
And quiver on the sparkling rills ; 
They dance across the meadows bright, 
And kiss the lilies pure and white ; 
They paint the roses red and gold, 
And earth is fairer to behold. 

The cheering sunlight gently falls 
Alike on cot, and palace walls ; 
And toilers all alike can share 
The sunlight and the free pure air : 
And this is but the outward sign 
Of Spirit-light, that is divine. 

The light and joy of gentle grace, 
Of loving heart and smiling face, 
And kindly word and deed each day, 
We all may scatter round our way ; 



TIME. 75 

And then our lives will flow along, 
Like the sweet melody of song. 

The lisrht of love within the heart, 

Will ever peace and joy impart, 

Until the clouds above are riven, 

And we pass through the gate of heaven ; 

Into that bright and golden day, 

That God's pure light illumes for aye ! 




TIME. 

IKE one flash of infinite light ; 

One star among the spheres of night ; 
One drop of waters deep and wide ; 
One throb of ocean's ceaseless tide ; 
One grain of all the desert sands ; 
One flower culled from all the lands ; 
One atom of a mighty world ; 
One planet through the spaces hurled : 
One moment of — Eternity — 
O Time ! thou art, and e'er must be ! 



76 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEE T. 

BEAUTIFUL. 

"He hath made everything beautiful in His time." 



PlEAUTIFUL world is this of ours. 
Jg0P Beautiful trees and beautiful flowers 
Beautiful mountains clad in green, 
Beautiful vales that lie between ; 
Beautiful lakes and beautiful seas, 
Beautiful flowers that scent the breeze : 
Beautiful sun with golden light, 
Beautiful stars that crown the night ; 
Beautiful birds that flit and sing, 
Beautiful fruits the seasons bring ; 
Beautiful brooks with ceaseless song, 
Beautiful rivers flow along ; 
Beautiful herds upon the hills, 
Beautiful grass beside the rills ; 
Beautiful children that I love, 
Beautiful angels from above ; 
Beautiful ones in endless Spring, 
Beautiful songs will love to sing ; 
Beautiful city, streets of gold, 
Beautiful home of joy untold ; 
Beautiful angels robed in white, 
Beautiful temple, God its light; 



ANGEL OF LOVE. 77 

Beautiful is that better laud, 
Beautiful walls around it stand ; 
Beautiful rivers ever flow, 
Beautiful trees beside them grow ; 
Beautiful flowers that never fade 
Beautiful all things God has made : 
Beautiful there Life's shining goal, — 
O, beautiful home of the soul ! 



ANGEL OF LOVE. 



5jgdKLESSED and glorious, 
J~sp Over all victorious. 
Come and reign over us — 
Anoel of Love ! 



O, grant in full measure, 
Like a golden treasure, 
Thy unceasing pleasure— 
An2rel of Love ! 

In our indecision, 
O, grant us a vision 
Of the fields Elysian— 
Angel of Love ! 



78 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET 



CHARITY. 



%|^2?HARITY — is a friend whose smile 
^^^7 Can every ill and woe beguile ; 
Sweet maid, she " seeketh not her own,' 
But on the cheerless and the lone — 
Her blessings fall. 



She comes with such a charming grace, 
That she obtains a dwelling place 
In every heart that knows the love, 
That God sends richly from above — 
Free unto all. 

kk Rejoicing in the truth," she goes 
Where error's bitter fountain flows ; 
With brow of peace and eye of light, 
She makes the wanderer's pathway bright, 
To guide from sin. 

How sad earth's lowly ones would be 
Without the aid of Charity : 
She scatters blessings day by day, 
And homes along the darkest way 
Are bright asrain. 



A GOOD DEED. 79 

All through the winter, drear and wild, 
Go thou, and aid Misfortune's child ! 
And Avhen the silver cord is riven, 
Beyond the pearly gates of heaven — 
Thy home may be. 

If riches crown thy earthly lot, — 
Have charity, that " envieth not : " 
Give freely of thy bounteous store, 
And priceless treasures evermore, 
Will God <rive thee ! 



A GOOD DEED. 



Imk GOOD deed is never lost : 

And we need not count its cost ; 
In the glad some-time 
Every deed sublime, 
Like good seed in fertile ground, 
With choice fruitage will abound. 



81 ) POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



WELCOME TO SPRING. 

ikWk 9 WELC0ME Spring! from southern 
f^f$ climes ; 
From groves of oranges and limes. 

Hither ye come, with fragrant balm, 
From sunny vales and hills of palm. 

From fresh and ever vernal bowers, 
Forever sweet with blooming flowers ; 

Where birds are singing all the year, 
Within a softer atmosphere ; 

And in the forests there abide, 
Where singing waters softly glide. 

With smiling face thou drawest nigh ; 
The beams of Hope are in thine eye. 

Now either side along the way, 

Ye deck with flowers sweet and gay. 

Ye scatter on each gentle breeze, 
The fragrant bloom of fruitful trees. 



WELCOME TO SPUING. 81 

The banks along the river side, 
Thy magic touch hath glorified. 

Lavish thou art with wealth untold, 
Ye fringe the morning clouds with gold. 

And brightly tint the evening skies 
With heaven's softest, richest dyes. 

And in thy generous hands O, Spring ! 
Sure prophecies of good ye bring. 

Thy balmy air and gentle rain, 

Will crown the hills with golden grain. 

O, welcome here, thrice welcome now ! 
With flower garlands on thy brow. 

Where'er it pleaseth thee to stray, 
New life and beauty mark the way. 

Freely thy precious gifts are given — 
Servant of God ! and heir of heaven ! 

Thy hand shall crown immortal bowers, 
And scatter there unfading flowers ! 

Thy light on heavenly hills will shine ; 
For God's eternal years, are thine ! 




82 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



YOUR LITTLE "MAUDIE." 



TO WM. B. AND MARY W. MATHEWS. 



HE'S gone, we surely know, 
' Where heavenly splendors glow, 
And ceaseless pleasures flow 

Round her in glory there. 

In garments pure and white, 
The blessed Morning liffht 
Makes her more fair and bright — 
Within our Father's care. 

O Joy ! the light and love 
Of that blest home above, 
Makes her a shining Dove, — 

To bear to heaven your prayer. 

Across the silver strand, 
Among the angel band, 
They lead her by the hand 

Where fields are always fair. 

There on the golden shore, 
She dwells forevermore, 
With loved ones gone before, 

And all their blessings share. 



THE SOUL. 83 

O, may the love divine 
That makes her spirit shine, 
Sometime be yours and mine — 

In glorious mansions there ! 

o 



THE SOUL. 

llT is a child of God, 
i^fe Sent out in spheres abroad, 

To learn the way 
Of wisdom, truth and love, 
That leads to heights above — 

In endless day. 

Spark of the Soul Divine, 
Forevermore to shine 

In realms of light ; 
When in earth's lowly school, 
It learns the "golden rule" — 

Of doing Right. 

An angel it will be 
In vast eternity, 

When it shall climb 
In paths as yet untrod, 
Up to the hills of God — 

By deeds sublime ! 



84 POEMS B Y FRANK IS WEET. 



THE PRAIRIES. 

^fiwj^NE hundred years ago to-day, 
V$¥$ In this fair land I now survey, 
The Indian roamed in lordly state, 
Or wooed and won his dusky mate. 

The thunder of the bison's tread, 
And scream of eagles overhead, 
Dispeled the charms of solitude 
From this fair plain and bordering wood. 

And oft the huntsman's arrow flew 
From his strong bow, so swift and true, 
It pierced the heart of panting deer, 
Whose life-blood stained the flowers here. 

And the shrill whistle of the quail, 
Was music on the autumn gale ; 
When golden flowers swayed in the breeze, 
Like sun-lit waves of inland seas. 

Now all this fair extended plain 
Is crowned with fields of golden grain ; 
And side by side the fields of corn 
Are shimmering in the light of morn. 




H Urairie Scene. 



THE PRAIRIES. 87 

A rich reward for patient toil, 
Is gained by those who till the soil ; 
The orchard boughs are bending low 
With choicest fruits that ever grow. 

The slope that to the south inclines, 
Is covered o'er with fruitful vines, 
With purple clusters shining there, 
That ripen in the balmy air. 

The College stands near by the wood, 
Where once the humble wigwam stood ; 
And Christian temples grandly rise, 
That ring with heavenly melodies. 

And many homes where peace doth dwell, 
Adorn this prairie land so well, 
That the transition of the plain 
Brings Eden's glory back again. 

Summit Prairie. 



88 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 



CENTRAL AMERICA. 



"mffifeN strange wild flowers fair and sweet, 
V$¥$ I tread to-day with careless feet : 

No chilling blasts can touch them here, 
They bloom in beauty all the year ; 

And shine on this December day 
As brightly as they did in May. 

Fair orange blossoms deck the bouo-h 
Where hangs the green and ripe fruit now. 

The trees of bread-fruit here abound ; 
And choicest lemons strew the ground. 

And the fair groves of cocoa-palm, 
Enrich the air with fragrant balm. 

The fair-plumed birds in morning's beams 
Now flit and sing by singing streams. 

Adown the mountains long have rolled 
In crystal streams, the sands of gold : 

Above them smiles serenest skies 
With tints of rich cerulean dyes ; 



CENTRAL AMERICA. 89 

And sweetest flowers scent the breeze 
That lifts the waves of sun-kissed seas. 

Here dark-eyed maids with flowing hair, 
Who seem to have but little care, 

Weave garlands of the tropic flowers, 
Mid spicy groves at noon-day hours ; 

And sing their songs at eventide, 
Which echo through the forests wide. 

Here Nature gives with generous hands, 
What may supply each day's demands ; 

And so men pass their time away 
In abject idleness and play. 

They seem to have no purpose grand, 
To make the heart and soul expand, 



With holy love and purest thought, 
Until life's noblest deeds are wrought. 



The wild-grape climbs the forest trees, 
And hangs its clusters in the breeze. 

Through all the year without a care, 
The trees their leaves and fruitage bear. 

O, land of fruits and trailing vines ! 
Where all the year the warm sun shines ; 



90 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEE T. 

A land of ever-vernal bowers ; 

Of gayest birds, and fairest flowers ; 

Of fruitful hills and sun-lit vales, 
Forever kissed by balmy gales : — 

With all thy wealth of Summer cheer, 
I would not wish to tarry here ; 

For Health, that gives the cheeks a glow, 
Dwells where the northern breezes blow ; 

And where men toil and till the ground, 
Earth's brightest Eden will be found. 

Farewell, bright Land of Sun, to-day ! 
And pathless woods, in green array ; 

With flowers and birds of every hue, 
And luscious fruits the whole year through 

I care not longer here to roam ; 
But sail to my dear northern home. 

Central America, December 25, 1864. 



FLOWERS OF GOD. 91 



FLOWERS OF GOD. 

(in summer-time.) 

J/}^a|OW beautiful the earth now seems, 
V$/!§£ Arrayed in flowers sweet and fair ; 
Along the marge of singing streams 

They bloom in stately glory there ; 
And close beside the dusty street, 

They deck like stars the dewy sod, 
And make the gentle zephyrs sweet — 

The pure and fair young flowers of God. 

They sport with every playful breeze, 

And lift their heads to kiss the light ; 
And give their treasures to the bees 

That toil when day is warm and bright : 
They gleam upon the mountain's brow,. 

And to each passing breeze they nod ; 
They shine with queenly beauty now — 

The bright and lovely flowers of God. 

They speak to us of love divine, 
That clothes the lilies of the field; 

And everywhere these beauties shine, 
Our Father's goodness is revealed. 



92 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 

There is a land, not far away, 

Where blessed angel feet have trod ; 

In fadeless glory there for aye — 

Will shine, immortal Flowers of God ! 




SUCCESS. 

WO vanquish ills we daily meet 
Along the rugged path of Time ; 
And climbing upward till our feet 
Rest on the holy heights sublime : 

To gather wisdom evermore, 
Beneath our feet and overhead ; 

Con Nature's lessons o'er and o'er, 
That holy saints and seers have read : 

To learn the ways of love and peace, 
And ever try to walk therein ; 

And all our moral powers increase, 
Until we triumph over sin : 

To do our duties every day, 

Until our mission here is done ; — 

Thus we ascend the shining way, 
Until Life's true Success is won ! 




HOME. 93 



HOME. 

" O Joy, this world is not our home." 

HOUGH loving friends may greet us here, 
Our path be bright through all the year, 
And richest gifts while here below. 
Our Father vu&y on us bestow ; 
Still to each soul a hope is given, 
Of something grand and fair as Heaven ! 

Though wealth may throw a dazzling blaze 

Of glory round our early days ; 

And ever in life's golden prime, 

Give what the world may call sublime : 

But all the springs of earthly joy 

Must bear the stain of deep alloy. 

I know full well, as others know, 

The spirit's home is not below, 

But in a fairer world above, 

Where dwelleth Light and Truth and Love :— 

There Hope, bright angel, bids me roam, 

And claim forevermore — a Home ! 



94 



POEMS BY FBANK SWEET. 



LIGHT. 




IRE the stars or flowers had birth, 
Or the sun had kissed the earth, 
Dark was the night ; 
But the darkness quickly fled, 
When the great Creator said — 
' ' Let there be light ! " 

Then the hosts of heaven fly 
To imperial thrones on high, 

With torch of gold, 
Each to light the arch of blue, 
Ever changeful, ever new, 

We now behold. 

Then the flowers in Eden grew, 
Drank the sparkling drops of dew, 

And earth was fair ; 
While beneath the smiling skies, 
Many fruitful trees arise 

In beauty there. 



There man walked in regal pride, 
Till he took the fruit denied, 
And sinning, fell ; 



LIGHT. 95 

But the light shone through the sphere 
Of the first-born crystal tear ; 
Then all was well. 



Wisdom in her hand doth hold 
Something brighter far than gold, 

To banish night ; 
Not a ruby from the mine, 
Or a diamond, can outshine 

Her wondrous light. 

Science sends the sacred fire 
Flashing o'er electric wire, 

With cheering light ; 
Nothing e'er can dim the ray 
That will guide her onward way, 

Or upward flight. 

And the Truth of God will shine 
With a glory more divine 

Each passing day ; 
Until in her golden light, 
All the clouds of Error's ni^ht 

Shall flee away. 

Clouds that veil the nether skies, 
Cannot keep from eager eyes 
The light divine. 



96 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

They who rise by good deeds done- 
Brighter than the stars or sun, 
Their light will shine. 

And the night will melt away, 
In the glow of perfect day 

That greets the soul, 
Just beyond the gates of light, 
Where the angels robed in white, 

Lead to life's goal. 

If we ever day by day, 
Keep within the shining way 

The pure have trod, 
Where peace, like a river flows, 
We shall gain the land where glows 

The LIGHT of God. 



PRESENT AND FUTURE. 

m^pHILE here amid life's toil and care, 
^ft© The soul oft breathes an ardent prayer- 
For something far more grand and fair, 
That it enjoys to-day. 



PRESENT AND FUTURE. 97 

The present hath its springs of joy ; 
But discontent is the alloy 
That doth the happiness destroy, 

That cheers our onward way. 

Thus oftentimes we fail to know 
The bliss we might enjoy below, 
To fill the soul with heavenly glow 
That may endure for aye. 

Hope paints the future wondrous bright, 
With richest tints, and golden light ; 
And when it flashes on the sight, — 
We think we shall be blest. 

And this is true of all our days ; 
The Present hangs in misty haze ; 
The Future gleams with shining ways 
Of peace and joy and rest. 

To make the best of things that are, 
And thankful be, is better far 
Than all our happiness to mar — 
Until we gain the best. 



98 POEiMti B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 



MY COUNTRY. 

AMERICA, thou art my pride : 
^A More fair than all the lands beside ; 
From north to south, from shore to shore, 
Thou givest treasures evermore : 
Thy varied scenery, rich and grand, 
Is not excelled in any land. 

The thriving North, with fields of grain 
That crown the mountain, hill and plain ; 
And lakes, upon whose surface gleams 
The golden light of morning's beams ; 
While stars that nightly deck the sky 
Like jewels on their bosoms lie. 

The sunny South, where summer roves 

Ever amid the orange groves ; 

Whose cotton fields, in mimic show 

Like northern fields in robes of snow ; 

Whose broad, rich fields with corn are crowned ; 

W T ith birds and flowers the whole year round. 

The East, with finest works of art, 
Where crowds e'er throng the city's mart : 
With grazing herds upon the hills : 
And constant hum of many mills ; 



MY COUNTRY. 99 

Where costly halls of learning stand — 
The crowning glory of the land. 

The West, with mountains rising high 
Above the clouds that robe the sky : 
Where rivers flow o'er golden sand ; 
And mammoth trees, no other land 
Can boast, in stately beauty grow, 
Whose birth was centuries ago. 

Our mountains clad in evergreen, 
And pleasant vales that lie between, 
Where singing brooklets softly glide, 
With grain and flowers on either side ; 
And larger streams that calmly flow, 
Or plunge to fearful depths below : 

This is my country, rich and fair, 
With noble freemen everywhere ; 
And best of all my pen relates, — 
This glorious sisterhood of States, 
That send their light and joy abroad, 
And trace these blessings all to God. 



100 P0E3IS B Y FliANK JS WEET. 



JUNE FLOWERS. 



ps WANDERED forth one afternoon, 
^ When birds and brooks were all in tune, 
To cull the lovely flowers of June. 

The meadows were all fair and bright, 
Where daisies shone in gold and white, 
All bathed in hues of crystal light. 

The violets with lovely eyes, 

Seemed to look forth with glad surprise 

To greet the azure of the skies. 

Sweet roses by the wayside grew, 
Arrayed in glistening pearls of dew, 
Reflecting every rainbow hue. 

Do not these flowers everywhere, 
In smiling beauty, fresh and fair, 
Show us our Father's love and care ? 

And can we not some lesson learn 
Of wisdom, we should never spurn, 
Whichever way our eyes may turn ? 



And looking up with hope and trust, 
From flowers blooming in the dust, 
Seek treasures that will never rust. 



GEMS. 101 

May each one learn some truth divine, 
From all the lovely flowers that shine, 
Although they give no word or sign. 

One lesson, wisely understood, 

The radiant flowers in field and wood 

Are teaching now — that God is good. 

And by His purpose, high and wise, 
The myriad forms of beauty rise, 
All clad in Nature's loveliest dyes. 

In every path that we have trod, 
Where fairest flowers decked the sod, 
Rejoicing, we have " walked with God." 




GEMS. 

JipcHE diamond is a jewel bright ; 

For it hath caught a ray of light, 
And gver held it trembling there 
Within its bosom pure and fair : 

And so within our souls divine 
The light of love may ever shine, 
And brighten with a fairer glow, 
While the unceasing ages flow. 



102 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET 



NEWS CARRIER'S ADDRESS. 

S/SMfAPPY New Year ! kind patrons dear ! — 
^J^sg: I wish you Joy, this radiant morn ; 
May Plenty crown your pathway here. 

And keep you from the proud world's scorn ! 

I would that all the coming years 

Might come to you with brow of peace ; 

With ruddy cheeks, unstained with tears, 
And blessings that may never cease ! 

As you recall the past, and see 

How oft kind words and kindly deeds, 

Have brought the sweetest joys to thee ; — 
Go on and sow these precious seeds. 

The harvest-time will surely come, 

When these swift-rolling years are past ; 

Then golden sheaves you carry home, 
Will give the sweetest joys at last ! 

Far swifter than the fleeting year, 

Is Science speeding on to-day ; 
And oft new works of Art appear, 

That gladden all life's toilsome way. 



NEWS CARRIERS ADDRESS. 103 

Thought flashes o'er the trembling wire 
Beneath the sea, and through the land ; 

And millions feel the thrilling fire 

That cheers the heart and nerves the hand. 



And truth, forever new, doth shine 
In every land and clime of earth : 

While Love, eternal and divine. 
Still gives the spirit holier birth ! 

Genius, that soul-inspiring power, 
That ever works for human weal, 

Gives to the world each passing hour, 
The Real, wrought out from the Ideal. 

True Liberty unchains the mind ; 

And Freedom's star sheds holy light ; 
And all the nations of mankind 

Are striving more for Truth and Right. 

The world progresses slow but sure ; 

Men toil with purpose high and grand ; 
And Charity that will endure, 

Increases still in every land. 

" Glad tidings " of celestial joy, 
The blessed angels ever bring ; 

And lead to bliss without alloy, 

Where strains of sweetest music ring. 



104 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEE T. 

Kind Friends ! for all your goodly aid, 
Accept our earnest thanks to-day ; 

And may our visits, oft as made, 

Shed light and peace around your way. 




TEMPLES. 

wfiHEN Eden in its glory came 
?g> Fresh from the hand of God ; 
And man, inspired by love's pure flame, 

Among the flowers trod ; 
He bowed at Nature's holy shrine, 
To praise the Architect divine. 

The years sped on, and man had made 

A temple grand and fair ; 
Its walls with gold were overlaid, 

And he did worship there, 
The God who made the temple bright 
With heaven's own celestial light. 

No temple built by human art, 

Is half so grand or fair 
As the true temple of the heart, — 

When God is worshiped there, 
According to the noblest plan, — 
Of love to God, and love to man ! 



THE BEAUTIFUL GATE. 105 



THE BEAUTIFUL GATE. 

SPHERE'S a beautiful gate at the close of 

$§$& this life, 

And it leads to the land of the blest ; 

Where the weary may pass from their labor 

and strife, 
And there find the sweet solace of rest : 
For the noble and good, a kind angel doth 

wait 
Till they come to the beautiful gate ! 

There the loved ones remain, who have gone on 

before, 
And they dwell in the mansions of light ; 
Or they wander at will on the evergreen shore, 
Now arrayed in their garments of white : — 
All the pure ones of earth, either early or late. 
Enter in at the beautiful gate ! 

And we know we shall meet one another again, 

In the beautiful city of gold ; 

And there sing the glad songs of the angels. 

and then 
We shall share in their pleasures untold ; 
And there worship our God, with the angels 

that wait 
For us all at the beautiful gate ! 




106 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

SUNBEAMS. 
I. 

li^HE sunbeams flash along the hills, 
And quiver on the sparkling rills ; 
They dance across the meadows bright, 
And kiss the lilies fair and white ; 
They paint the blushes of the rose, 
And color every flower that grows. 

II. 

In every cot and palace falls 

The golden sunlight on the walls ; 

It shines afar on every hand, 

To bless each toiler in the land ; 

And scatters countless gleams of cheer 

Along life's rugged pathway here. 

III. 

And so we all, with gentle grace, 
With loving heart and smiling face, 
And kindly word and deed each day, — 
May scatter blessings round our way ; 
And make some pathway here more bright, 
Some heart and home more full of light ! 




MCE. 



LINES TO- ALICE. 109 



LINES TO — ALICE. 



|{f§IS joy for thee in early Spring, — 
IM To see the earth arrayed with flowers ; 
And hear the birds and children sing, 
And Avalk among these vernal bowers ! 

But greater far, thy joy will be, 

When fairer plains gleam on thy -sight ; 

And angels pure, thine eyes shall see 
Arrayed in glistening robes of white ! 

And fairer groves, by far than these, 
Will yet delight thy sun-bright eyes ; 

And sweeter songs thy ear will please, 
And thrill along yon clearer skies ! 

And you will cull the flowers that grow 
Beside Life's pure immortal streams, 

And sweeter joys thy soul will know, 
Than ever gild our brightest dreams ! 

In view of pleasures there for thee, 

In that celestial land above ; — 
May all thy thoughts and actions be, 

As pure as yonder Fount of Love ! 



110 P0E3IS BY FBANK SWEET. 



MINISTERING ANGELS. 

" Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to min- 
ister for them who shall be heirs of salvation." — Hebrews 
i. 14. 



^(wiMJR God of Love, 
Y^SfQ) From realms above, 
Sends forth his angels bright ; 
When we are sad— 
To make us glad, 
And till our lives with light. 

They bring us joy 

Without alloy, 
From yon fair world of peace ; 

And pure delight 

By day and night, 
That nevermore may cease. 

They gladly come 

From their bright home, 
To serve their heavenly King; 

And here below, 

To hearts of woe, 
The balm of healing bring. 

On stairs like gold, 
With joy untold, 
The angels come and go 



MINISTERING ANGELS. Ill 

That everywhere 
Our Father's care 
His children here may know. 

If in our need, 

We daily heed 
The lessons that they teach, 

We may attain 

The highest plain 
That human souls can reach. 

And we shall know 

While here below, 
Those glorious gifts to prize, — 

Which God has given 

So free from heaven, 
To lure us to the skies. 

And lest we stray 

From life's true way, 
The Holy Spirit calls, 

To homes of love 

And light above, — 
Within the jasper walls. 

When we in heaven, 

With sins forgiven, 
With seraph hosts appear, — 

With one accord, 

We '11 praise the Lord, 
For angel visits here ! 



112 



POEMS BY FBANK SWEET. 



JUNE. 

?UW|^, rosy June ! to sing thy praise, 
J$f@ I lift my heart and voice ; 

While Nature doth rejoice, 
And wakes a thousand tuneful lays. 

Ye bring the many bright-hued flowers 
To scent the balmy air, 
Whose incense seems a prayer 

Sent up among the fairy bowers. 

O, for the true poetic lire ! 

Thy worthy praise to sing ; 

For treasures that you bring, 
Doth love and gratitude inspire. 



The singing birds, and brooks in tune, 
Make music sweet and clear 
That thrills the atmosphere, 

Rich with thy breath, O rosy June ! 



A FLORAL OFFERING. 113 



A FLORAL OFFERING. 



M&EAR Friend ! I bring these flowers to 




%i^ you 

That sparkle with the morning dew : 
The pure white lily and the rose, 
From where the singing brooklet flows, 
And other flowers sweet and fair, 
That shone in all their glory there. 

These purple bells and urns of white, 
That shine so fair in morning's light, 
Twine with the roses, let them meet, 
Stainless with stainless, sweet with sweet; — 
And may your joyous life e'er be — 
Pure as the flowers I bring to thee ! 

And like the cup whence Juno sips, 
Now press them to thy crimson lips : 
Their fragrance breathe, and call them fair ; 
Braid them in clusters with thy hair : — 
Then will be blest these flowers that grew 
By stream and wood, sweet friend, for you ! 



114 P0E3IS B Y FBANK SWEET, 



LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 



I(]2|N a cavern formed of stone, 
^|^ Where the sun had never shone, 
Dwelt a hermit, all alone. 

Drops of water made their way 
Through the roof of stone one day, — 
( So the ancient legends say ; ) 

And the drops a streamlet grew, 

Till they wore an avenue 

So the sunlight darted through. 

Once there was a prison cell, — 
(So the sacred writings tell,) 
Where no ray of sunlight fell. 

And a prisoner sleeping there, 
Bound in chains with utmost care, 
Heard a voice upon the air ; 

For an angel said — Arise ! 
And a light from heavenly skies, 
Shone into his wondering eyes, 



LIGHT IN DABKNESS. 1 15 

Then the an^el led him out 
From the darkness and the doubt 
That had compassed him about. 



Still into the darkest mind 
Of the humblest human-kind, 
Heavenly light a path may find. 

Strongest gates can never stay. 
Rays of light that flash to-day, 
Over all our earthly way. 

Ever like a holy dove, 
From the shining land above, 
Comes the perfect light of Love ! 

And the angels bring it still, 
Every human soul to fill, 
Till we do our Father's will. 

May that light from heaven dart 

Into every sunless heart. 

And life's sweetest bliss impart ! 



116 POEMS B Y FBANK S WEET. 



QUEEN OF SPRING. 



.£?, 



'Mfvjfej how queenly the Spring, from the sun- 

v$j4> niest vales 

Where the blooms of the orange are borne on 

the gales, 
And the odors of flowers are sweet on the air, 
Comes with choicest of gifts that the humblest 

may share. 

All the fields she arrays in bright garments of 
green , 

And with flowers, the gayest that ever were 
seen, 

With their colors of gold, and of crimson and 
blue, 

Decks the lowliest vales, and the high moun- 
tains too. 

Like a spirit she comes, with a beautiful form, 
With a liberal hand, and a heart that is warm ; 
And with eyes full of light, glances over the 

earth, 
Where her gentle feet press, and the flowers 

have birth. 



QUE EX OF SPRING. 117 



From a land far away where the birds ever sins:, 
And the sweet flowers bloom in perennial spring : 
Now she comes like a queen with an exquisite 

grace, 
With a wreath on her brow T , and a smile on her 

face. 

Now the blooms in the orchard are thick on the 

trees ; 
And the song of the birds, as they float on the 

breeze, 
Waken joy in the hearts of the children at play 
In the lap of the year, with the flowers of May. 

The alembic of life, is the zephyr that plays 
To the tune of the brooks, as they glide on their 

ways ; 
Now the rays of the sun on the dewdrops are 

bright, 
Which are glowing like diamonds that flash in 

the light. 

While the streams are like silver, and the clouds 
are like gold, 

And the splendors of Nature are grand to be- 
hold ; 

And the smile of heaven shines down on the 
scene ; — 

I would crown thee, O Spring ! as the Beautiful 
fjueen ! 




118 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 



WATER AND WINE. 

lOD hath made the sparkling water 
Flowing onward to the sea ; 
For each smiling son and daughter, 
It is plenty, pure and free. 

Man has made the wine that borrows 
From the sun its ruddy glow ; 

Wine that fills the heart with sorrows, 
Luring down to depths of woe. 

God sends out the streamlets singing 
Where the dews and showers fall ; 

Ever joy and gladness bringing, 
To the loving hearts of all. 

Man sends out the streams that carry 
Swift destruction where they flow : — 

They who at the wine-cup tarry, 
Down to ruin soon may go. 

Therefore, drink the sparkling water, 
Bubbling from the crystal springs : 

'Tis a purer, sweeter nectar, 

Than the choicest wine of kings. 




PROGRESS. 119 



PROGRESS. 



SsvjjjO mortal here hath ever trod 
^|) A flowery path to gates of God. 

Each struggle for the True and Right, 
Lifts the soul to a grander height. 

And every sorrow swept away, 
Lets in the beams of brighter day. 

And every passion we have slain 
Counts to the soul's eternal gain. 

And the bright crown of endless life 
Is ever won by noble strife. 

And treasures that our eyes will see 
In that bright world that is to be. 

We can not sound the depths of thought, 
Wherein the plans of God were wrought, 

For the progression of the soul 
While the eternal aeons roll ; 

But its true prayer will ever be, — 
" Nearer my God ! nearer to Thee ! " 




120 POEMS B Y FRANK JS WEET. 



POETKY. 

jROM Heaven comes the sacred fire 
That does the Poet's soul inspire, 
Until it seems to pass the bound 
That compasses the earth around ; 
And wanders on that peaceful shore, 
With kindred spirits gone before. 

And in that purer atmosphere, 
Comes to the soul, distinct and clear, 
Those holy words that thrill and burn — 
That it were wise to hear and learn ; 
For they will guide in pathways bright, 
Up to that world of endless light. 

I know 'tis Heaven's high behest, — 
That Love should reign in every breast ; 
And aught that ever can inspire 
One holy thought, or pure desire, — 
Is born of God ! and it will be 
Enduring as eternity. 

Life's sorrows often melt away, 
When touched by one sweet thrilling lay ; 
Then hope sends out her beams of light, 
And makes the Future seem so bright, 



POETRY. 121 

That up the path of life divine, 
The joyful soul doth rise and shine. 

God thus inspires a power within, 
To help us triumph over sin : 
Unfolds his likeness in the soul, 
And lead it upward to its goal,— 
To an inheritance of bliss, 
Upon the heights of holiness. 

The Poet gives in language mild, 
True wisdom from streams undefiled ; 
Tells how to shun temptation's snares, 
And gives sweet rest amid life's care- : 
Leads thirsting souls by waters pure, 
In paths where they may walk secure. 

In life's alembic they are tried, 
Ere by the spirit sanctified ; 
And rising oft from humble birth, 
They shine among the stars of earth 
In words and deeds, that evermore 
A radiance on life's pathway pour. 

From holy hills the bards sublime, 
Light all the avenues of Time ; 
Revealing God's eternal plan — 
Of wisdom, truth and love, to man : 
Thus leading back from wayward ways. 
His children here — to sing His praise. 



122 POEMS B Y FRANK SWEET. 

Lifes' golden lessons oft are taught, 
In lines that glow with gems of thought ; 
And written with a trembling pen, — 
They oft inspire the hearts of men 
With love and hope ; and thus mankind 
The pathway out of error find. 

When clouds of Sin all flee away, 
And Love illumes the perfect day ; 
And by sweet Peace and Joy, are given 
The sacred Antepast of heaven ; 
And Truth and Justice shall be real : — 
Then comes the Poet's true IDEAL ! 




BROTHER, COME HOME. 



iOULD I could send my voice to thee 
Where'er thou art ; 
That its sweet tones of melody 

Might win thy heart : — 
Brother, dear brother, come home ! 

Cheerless is home when thou art gone, 
We know not where ; 



BBOTHER. COME HOME. 123 

And fond hearts at the early dawn. 
Send out this prayer : — 
Brother, dear brother, come home ! 

And still, when comes the eventide. 

We miss thy voice ; 
If thou again with us abide, 

We shall rejoice ! — 
Brother, dear brother, come home ! 

Come to thy home of early days 

With its fair bowers, 
And all its pleasant garden ways 

Now sweet with flowers ; — 
Brother, dear brother, come home ! 

Come to the circle of our home, 

O, brother dear ! 
Thou couldst not longer love to roam 

If thou wert here : — 
Brother, dear brother, come home ! 



124 POEMS B Y FBANK 8 WEET. 



SOWING AND REAPING. 



Mf/intfeE are sowing seed in the morning light ; 
^x^g> We are sowing seed when the sun shines 

bright ; 
We are so wins: seed in the soft twilight : 



What will the harvest be ? 



If we sow good seed in the fields of thought, 
And our lives alway, be with good deeds 

fraught, 
We shall know our Father's hand falters not ; — 
Rich will the harvest be ! 



But if evil thoughts, and like deeds we sow ; 
And thus scatter wide the dark seeds of woe ; 
In life's autumn time, we shall surely know, — 
Sad will the harvest be ! 

Sow the words of truth in the trusting heart ; 
Scatter light and joy wherever thou art ; 
Of life's noble work, if you do your part, — 
Grand will the harvest be ! 



MINE. L25 

Germs of goodness here let us carefully sow ; 
Scattering love and hope as we onward go ; 
Then for us, in life's rich, autumnal glow ; — 
Sweet will the harvest be ! 



MINE. 

ftJMoLEAMS of lio'ht from a^es past 
ws^® Ancient books of choicest lore, 
Truth and love that ever last, 

Free from heaven's bounteous store ; 
Works the great and good have wrought, 
Crystalizing human thought ; — 
These are mine. 

All the golden deeds of theirs 
Shed a radiance round our way ; 

All their pure and earnest prayers 
Sanctify life's present day ; 

Toiling for a home in heaven. 

Holy lessons they have given ; — 
These are mine. 

Aspirations pure and high. 

Rising to the world above ; 
Faith that brings my Father nigh, 

And secures his boundless love ; 



126 POEMS B Y FBANK S WEET. 

While he giveth, day by day, 
Light to cheer my onward way ; — 
These are mine, 

Other wealth I have than this, 
In that radiant world of light, 

Where the streams of life and bliss, 
Fill the soul with pure delight ; 

That upon the brighter shore. 

Will be mine forevermore : — 
All are mine. 



OUT OF DARKNESS. 



4(w)JMlT of the rough clod e'er springs the 
$f@ sweet flower ; 

And from the dark clouds that around us lower, 
Flows downward to earth the life-giving 

shower ; — 
Then let us not in life's trials e'er cower ; 
For thus we unfold each God-given power ! 



THE BEAUTIFUL UAIN. 127 



THE BEAUTIFUL RAIN. 



THE rain, the beautiful rain ! 
) That falls on mountain, hill and plain, 
And wakes the flowers to life again. 



m 



Brilliant pearls for a transient hour. 
Bedeck each tiny leaf and flower. 
Unfolding them with magic power. 

It lays the dust along the street. 
Where the tread of a thousand feet 
Echoeth to its presence sweet. 

It is the wondrous power that seems 
To give new life to singing streams, 
That sparkle in the noon-day gleams. 

How oft the genial showers of rain. 
Refresh the countless fields of grain. 
And clothe the hills with tlowers again, 

And oft a fresh baptism may 

Wash the dust from their hues away, 

Till they shine in their bright array. 



128 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 



VICTORY OF TEMPERANCE. 

ApHE (Jay i s very near at hand, 

When joy will reign through all the land ; 

The glorious day 

For which we pray ; 
When all mankind will wisely learn, 
The drunkard's cup of woe to spurn. 

Its holy light is shining now 
Upon the eastern mountain's brow ; 

The skies of blue 

Reflect each hue ; 
The clouds, and all the crystal streams, 
Catch the fast-ushering, golden beams. 

Awake, arise, ye slumbering souls ! 
The car of Progress onward rolls ; 

While scoffs and jeers, 

By prayers and tears, 
Are overcome ; the rising sun 
Will soon proclaim the victory won. 

Would you have part in this grand strife ? 
This struggle for a nobler life : — 

Then take your stand, 

With heart and hand 
Strong for the Right ; help deal the blow 
That lays the mighty monarch low ! 



RECOMPENSE. 129 

O, help to rescue and raise up, 
Those who have drunk the bitter cup 

So deep and long ; 

Lead them from wrong, 
Into the sunny fields of Right, 
Till self is conquered in the fight ! 

Send out the voice of strong command 
On wings of lightning through the land : 

O O O O 

And rally all 

Who hear the call, 
And put the foe of Freedom down ; — 
Then each shall wear a victor's crown ! 



RECOMPENSE. 



^JAWHERE are pure and noble spirits 
^^ Ever struggling for the right ; 
Till the clouds of error vanish 

From the truth's eternal light : 
They care not for worldly honor ; 

They seek not for shining gold ; — 
They will gain a brighter treasure 

Than these earthly coffers hold ! 



130 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 



CHRISTMAS ECHOES. 




HEN morning stars together sang 
ggj The ancient music of the spheres, 
And all creation's arches rang 

To the grand march of youthful years, 
That came with measured steps sublime, 
Down through the corridors of time ; 
Then angels came and talked with men 

Of glorious things that yet would be ; 
When all the earth would smile again 

With Eden's grace and purity. 

The years sped on, and bards sublime 

Sang of Messiah's peaceful reign ; 
When those who dwell in every clime, 

Would sing the angels' glad refrain , 
And every voice, and every pen, 
Say — "Peace on earth, good will to men." 
Soon will those days, so long foretold, 

Shine on the land, and on the sea, 
And earth attain the age of gold ; — 

A thousand years of Jubilee. 

O'er Judah's silver-mantled plains, [night, 
When shepherds watched their flocks by 



CHRISTMAS ECHOES. 131 

The angels sang in sweetest strains, 

While round them shone a wondrous light : 

This was the burden of the song 

That echoed from the white-robed throng : — 

" Glory to God !" who reigns on high, 
And " on earth peace, good will to men,'' 

Rose to the arches of the sky 
That sent the music back airain. 

They told the birth of Christ the Lord, 

A mighty Savior promised long ; 
Then nryriad angels in accord, 

Unite in voluntary song, 
Until the music all divine, 
A\yakes the hills of Palestine, 
That answer back in glad reply ; - 

Then wise men hasten to behold 
The mighty Day-spring from on high, 

And bring to him their gifts of gold. 

A richer gift than gold he brought 

From the celestial land above ; — 
A life of noble deed and thought, 

That kept the perfect law of love 
By doing good ; and where he trod, 
Revealed the shining way of God. 
Rejoice to-day, ring all the bells, 

And let each voice with song arise, 
And with the organ's highest swells, 

Increase the chorus of the skies ! 



VS-2 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET 



LAKE "TAHOE" — CALIFORNIA. 

§p|&MONG the mounts of everlasting green, 
|©A Whose images are in thy waters seen ; 
Here like a jewel set in gold, ye lie — 
Reflecting every tint of earth and sky. 

The winds that rush o'er mountains high and 

wild, 
Come clown and kiss thee softly like a child ; 
And flash bright wavelets-on the golden sands, 
Near where the Sugar Pine in grandeur stands. 

Within thy waters deep, yet ever clear. 
The speckled Trout in myriads appear ; 
That in past years with implements most rude, 
The "Children of the forest " took for food. 

And here they prayed amid the darkling wood, 
To the " Great Spirit," — source of every good : 
And oft their songs were ringing in the glade 
With tones that thy sweet-singing waters made. 

Pure living springs on mountain sides supply 
Thy constant ebbing tide, and keep as high 
Those water-marks upon the rocks that rise 
From thy west marge, almost up to the skies. 




IxAKE fiAHOE, |§ 



AUTUMNAL GLORY. 135 

The pleasure vessel glides across thee now ; 
The man of care, and child with placid brow, 
Here seek the gentle, cool and healthful breeze 
That stirs thy face, and plays among the trees. 

Here on thy shores will stately mansions rise ; 
And sweetest music thrill beneath these skies ; 
And thousands here forgetful of life's cares, 
Rest on the gorgeous robe that Nature wears. 

Lake Tahoe, 1864. 




AUTUMNAL GLORY. 

^j}JOW the Artist of the Autumn 
Touches with a Master's hand, 
Every tree that makes the forest, 
With his colors rich and grand. 

Shades of purple, gold and russet, 
Brightest tints of red and ijreen ; 

All the woods are crowned with glory 
Such as Summer has not seen. 

Choicest fruits with cheeks of crimson, 
In the sun are ripening now : — 

All the treasures of the Autumn, 
Are like jewels on his brow ! 



136 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEE T. 



THOUGHT. 



: : ' 



a 




WHAT glorious power is given 
To each upward struggling soul ! 
Striving for the bliss of heaven, 

As its highest end and goal ; 
Cheering all life's toilsome way : — 
Child^of God ! whate'er thy lot, 
Gild the dark clouds as you may, 
With the precious gold of thought ! 

Let not others think for you ; 

You have talents given to use : — 
To your sacred trust be true ; 

And obtain the grandest views 
That your powers of soul can reach : 

Seek for happiness and fame 
By what Truth and Wisdom teach, 

And you'll gain an honored name. 

With the blessings you receive — 
Won by prayer and goodly strife ; 

Seek ye ever to achieve 

All the noblest aims of life ; 

For with thought, you have the power 
That shall triumph over sin : 



THOUGHT. 187 

Guard then, every passing hour, 
All the springs of thought within 1 

In the onward march of Right, 

Thought removes the power of wrong ; 
And its ever-changing light 

o o o 

Seems to grow more bright and strong ; 
And the world progresses still ; 

For by use of tongue and pen. 
Thought — its mission shall fulfill, 

In the hearts and lives of men ! 

Precious gift — there's nothing- higher 

That the human soul may claim ; 
Which doth noble deeds inspire. 

If true greatness is the aim : 
Here the darkest clouds are riven, 

And all glorious works are wrought ; 
And the earth is made like heaven — 

With the God-like power of thought ! 




138 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEE T. 

THE GERMAN SWEETHEART. 

(A youthful idol.) 

toSffiE sat by a sparkling stream, 
a^&Sp Where the branches met above, 
And I in my soul did dream, — 

For me was her young heart's love. 

But ah ! that sweet dream of mine, 
Like early hopes, soon was gone ; 

Like the stars that brightly shine 
On the eve of morning's dawn. 

Her eyes seem'd brighter by far 
Than the azure skies above ; 

And true as the Northern Star, 
Methought was her early love. 

Then, "Hast du mich lieb?" I said 
To her from over the Rhine ; — 

But she proudly shook her head — 
Quietly answering — ' ' JSFien . " 

If ever I ask again — 

My heart to ladies incline — 

Twill surely be in this plain, 

Though dearest language of mine. 



ALB UM DEDICA TION. 139 



ALBUM DEDICATION. 



jJ ~>< 



\S®tO Friendship's pure and holy fires, 
J/§ That ever thrill all loving hearts : 
To noble wishes, pure desires, 

That heavenly wisdom e'er imparts ; 
To all that can true joy create, — 
This Album now we dedicate ! 

May brilliant thoughts illume each mind 
That seeks to leave an offering here ; 

That they like jewels here enshrined, 
In all their beauty may appear : 

Then every word and every line, 

Will glow with light and love divine ! 

Here may Affection's choicest flowers 
Pour constant sweetness on the air ; 

And lead from Friendship's rosy bowers, 
Up Fancy's bright and golden stair. 

To heavenly hills that shine above 

With flowers of Wisdom, Truth and Love ! 



140 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 



LIFE'S MISSION. 

|p,WtO search for Truth, until you find 
&S@ That priceless jewel of the mind ; 

A gem whose lustre far outshines 
The brilliant diamonds of the mines. 

Then will the darkness turn to day ; 
For Error's clouds will flee away. 

And what now seemeth half concealed, 
In wondrous light will be revealed. 

Proclaim the Right, where'er thou art ; 
Of life's great work bear well thy part. 

And what thy conscience says is true, 
O, heed it well, be brave and do ! 



It is the zenith guiding star, 
To lead us where the angels are. 



Who lets this star illume the soul, 
May never stray while ages roll. 

Let Virtue round your pathway shine, — 
It is eternal, and divine. 



LIFE'S MISSION. 141 

The darkness thus is cast aside, 
The soul is brightened— purified. 

Eternal progress is the plan, 

God's wisdom has designed for man. 

And while we do the Father's will, 
We are advancing higher still ; 

Upon the golden stairs that rise 
Up to the mansions in the skies ; 

And all who toil with purpose high, 
Will reach their summit by and by. 

And climb from thence to other spheres, 
All through the bright, eternal years. 

4 'Truth crushed to earth will rise again;" 
And Right shall rule the lives of men. 

And Virtue, loved and cherished more, 
Will shine upon the golden shore ; 

When life's grand mission here is done, 
And life's immortal crown is won ! 



142 POEMS B Y FRANK SWEET. 

TAKE THE SPARKLING WINE AWAY. 

A SONG. 

jipW^O ye to the forest spring, 
jft^©) Where the bright birds sweetly sing ; — 
Bring me water pure and bright ; 
For it fills the eye with light ; 

'Tis the best — in childhood's hour, 
'Tis the best — in love's bright bower, 
'Tis the best — in manhood's prime, 
And will be — throughout all time ! 

Purest water bring to me, 
Flowing from the fountain free ; 
'Tis a gift of priceless worth, 
To the good and pure of earth ; 

Bring me water clear and bright, 

Sparkling in the liquid light ; 

Only this, and I will say — 

Take the sparkling wine away ! 

Bring me water, for I know 
'Tis the source of beauty's glow ; 
Free to all, it brightly gleams 
In a thousand crystal streams, 

Dashing on the rocks their spray, 

Singing all the golden day ; 

Bring me this, and I will say — 

Take the sparkling wine away ! 



HO L Y FA THEE . 148 



HOLY FATHER. 

|M|0LY Father ! hear our prayer : — 
^jy| Keep our feet from every snare ; 
May thine angels here below, 
Guide our steps where'er we go. 

Cleanse and keep our hearts from sin, 
By Thy Spirit's power within ; 

Strong, yet gentle, may we be, 

Ever rising up to Thee. 

Be our Teacher, Lord of light ! 
That our souls may learn aright — 

Life's great lesson here below ; 

Most of all we need to know. 



Teach us how thy will to do ; 

With a purpose wise in view ; 
Knowing that in days ere-long, 
Right shall triumph over wrong. 

Truth and error day by day, 

Ever wage unequal fray ; 

But if Thou dost make us strong, 
We shall sin^ Life's victor-song. 



144 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WMET. 

GOD'S DWELLING PLACE. 

JiprHERE is a happy land," — 
A sweet voice sang one day ; 
With mansions fair and grand, 
Where joy abides for aye. 

There is a city fair 

With streets of shining gold ; 
And wealth of treasures there, 

That never yet were told. 

And there a crystal stream 

Flows through the city bright ; 

While crowns of glory gleam 
And flash in purest light. 

Far from that blissful land, 

All errors flee away ; 
For only Truth can stand 

In God's supernal day ! 

Upon that golden shore, 
Arrayed in robes of white, 

The Good dwell evermore 
In pure and perfect light. 



A WISH. 145 

And there the lost, are found, 
And know as they are known ; 

And sing with angels round 
The glory-circled throne ! 

There with the angel band 

AVith forms of matchless grace, 

They share the heavenly land, — 
God's special dwelling place ! 




A WISH. 



j^AY pleasures sparkle in your way, 
Bright as the stars of even ; 
And gentle Hope, with golden ray. 

Light all your path to heaven ! 
And in that sphere of life and light, 

Endowed with clearer vision, 
Dwell with the angels clad in white, 
And share their joys Elysian ! 



146 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



PROGRESSION. 

MlMlOW oft at the early twilight hour, 

The spirit prays for the gift of power ; 
And for wings to rise from every sin, 
Up the shining way that enters in 
The pearly gates of heaven. 

But step by step is the way we rise 
From lowly earth to the starry skies ; 
To the beautiful land of truth and light, 
Attaining the crown and robes of white, 
With strength that God has given. 

We rise by constant and noble strife ; 
Climbing steadily the hills of life ; 
Leading others in the upward way ; 
Cheerfully doing good all the day — 
This is the way we rise. 

By kind words said, and our good deeds done, 
We pass the shining steps one by one ; 
W^here beautiful feet of the just have trod, 
Till we gain a home of bliss with God — 
Beneath the cloudless skies. 




THE HIGHER LIFE. 147 



THE HIGHER LIFE. 

OT far from this fair world of ours, 
A grander realm of beauty lies ; 
Of richer fruits and fairer flowers, 
Seen only by the spirit's eyes. 

A holy quiet permeates 

The pure ethereal atmosphere ; 

And joy unspeakable awaits 

The pure in heart, now dwelling here. 

No strifes divide the souls who find 
The portals of that land of light ; 

But Love, in harmony doth bind, 

All who dwell there in robes of white. 

Earth's language there is obsolete, 
When soul with soul doth interblend ; 

And their communion, pure and sweet, 
With loved ones there will never end. 

O, fill your soul with holy thought ! 

Your life with noble deeds of love ! 
For these into that life are wrought, 

Which you may share in spheres above. 



148 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEE T. 



< THE PILGRIM FATHERS. 




^PON this rocky shore I stand. 

a On Plymouth's bleak and barren strand, 
Most famous spot of all the land. 

For here the Pilgrim Fathers stood, 

A firm and noble brotherhood, 

And prayed the Giver of all good : — 

That He would guide with gentle hand, 
That meek and faithful exile band, 
And bless them in this foreign land. 

That He who calms the troubled sea, 
Would make them from oppression free, 
And evermore, their shield would be. 

By persecutions they were tried ; 
The rights of freemen were denied : 
Till England's yoke they cast aside ; 

And claimed this land as all their own, 
And their allegiance at no throne, 
Save that of God — who rules alone. 

Though sad and toilsome was their lot 

At first, in this unfavored spot, 

With all their cares they murmured not : 



" THE PILGRIM FATHERS:' 149 

But trusted in the God of Right, 
To lead them out of sorrow's night, 
And cheer their souls with holy light. 

The germ of Empire planted here, 
When forest leaves were brown and sere, 
And the December winds were drear ; 

Has grown to mighty power and state, 
And hath possessions good and great, 
More than my pen can well relate, 

Now God be praised, that he did bless 
With mercies almost numberless ; 
And led this nation through distress, 

To breathe at last of Freedom's air, 

In all this land so rich and fair, 

Which all true freemen here may share. 

Plymouth. December 22, 1870. 



160 POEMS B Y FBANK S WEET. 



TO THE "SIERRA NEVADAS." 
I. 

V^PON thy glorious heights I stand, 
*§ And view the scenes on every hand 
While here the snows have just begun 
To melt beneath the Summer sun, 
And fill the brooks in vales below, 
That carry blessings where they flow ; 
They water fields of golden grain 
Along the western slope and plain ; 
And give the vineyards full supply, 
That yield their fruitage by and by. 

II. 

Ye rob the clouds of dew and rain 
That might enrich the eastern plain : 
But men will climb thy steep inclines, 
And lake away thy robe of Pines ; 
And rob thee still of treasured gold, 
From many mines of wealth untold ; 
And rend thy silver bands in twain, 
For purposes of " loss and gain" : — 
So shalt thou make a full return, 
For thy spoils from Aquarius' urn ! 
Cal., June, 1864. 



INST ALL A TION HYMN. 151 



INSTALLATION HYMN. 

^ENT of God, to us thou art ; 
^llg Doing well a Teacher's part ! 
Herald of the reign of peace — 
Soon to come, and never cease. 

CHORUS. 
Joyful will thy mission be, 
While the clouds of error flee 
From the blaze of truth away ; — 
So we welcome thee to-day ! 

Joyful tidings thine to tell ; 
Clouds of error to dispel 
With the truth that flashes bright 
In the glow of heavenly light. 

May thy messages of love — 
Given thee from heaven above, 
Cheer the soul and teach the heart 
Here to choose the " better part." 

Here may joy and peace abide ; 
Love and Truth be glorified ; 
And "good will to men," be given, 
Lighting all the way to heaven. 



152 POEMS B Y FRANK S WJEET. 



PRAY FOR REAPERS. 



" Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields ; for they are 
white already to harvest." " And he that reapeth receiv- 
eth wages, and gathereth fruit unto life eternal." "Pray 
ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he will send 
forth laborers into his harvest." — JESUS. 



ip^HE fields of the Lord are white, 




? Stretching far across the plain : 
With your sickles keen and bright, 

Go and reap the golden grain ! 
Give the gleaners work to do ; 
For the laborers are few : — 
And pray for reapers 
In the harvest of the Lord ! 

Songs of gladness you may sing, 

In the long, bright hours of day, 
And with joy at evening bring 

All the gathered sheaves away : 
Brin£ the thousands that await 
Close to heaven's pearly gate ; 
But pray for reapers 
In the harvest of the Lord ! 

Some have fallen by the way ; 
Others weary, faint of heart ; — 



PRAY FOR REAPERS. L53 

By your words and works each day, 

Hope and joy, and strength impart : 
Whether reaping* grain or flowers, 
Ever till the sunset hours, 
O, pray for reapers 
In the harvest of the Lord ! 

Pray for reapers, till they come 

Clothed with power from on high ! 
Toiling for God's Harvest Home, 
In the realms beyond our sky : 
Till the Aweary reapers rest, 
In the kingdoms of the blest ; — 
Pray for the reapers 
In the harvest of the Lord ! 

When the angel reapers come 

To the fields where we have wrought ; 
Calling to our heavenly home. 

After patient toil and thought ; 
May all have, instead of leaves, 
A rich store of golden sheaves ! 
For we are reapers 
In the harvest of the Lord. 



154 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEE T. 



NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS. 

^^ESOLVED— that I will humbly say, 
Jjipep Whate'er of Truth I comprehend ; 
And as each day shall pass away, 
The Right I boldly will defend. 

Resolved — that I will meekly bear 
The part in life to me assigned ; 

Its toil and care will freely share, 
And be to Heaven's will resigned. 

Resolved — that I will give the poor, 
Who are by care and want oppressed. 

Some aid, though scant may be my store ; 
For joy of giving is the best. 

Resolved — that I will try to be 
True to the light of God within, 

And keep my heart forever free 
From the treach'rous snares of sin. 

Resolved — that I will ever pray 
For light and wisdom from above, 

To guide me in the perfect way 

Up to the Source of light and love. 



GIVE. 155 

GIVE. 

It is more blessed to give, than to receive." 

m|JF the hungry pass thy door, 

_ H Give them of thy bread in store : 

Give them raiment if they need, 

And the Father will indeed, 

Crown the goodly life you live 

With more blessings than you give ! 

Giving — is that "better part," 
Chosen by the pure in heart ; 
Keeping in the shining way 
Those whom want might lead astray ; 
Lifts them up to nobler life ; 
Makes them braver for the strife ! 

Give the measure full and free ; 
It shall overflow to thee 
With true riches, all untold ; 
Better far than gems or gold, 
When upon the blissful shore 
You abide forevermore ! 



156 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEFT. 



"THE GOLDEN GATE." 



W£ WALK along Pacific's strand, 
gjt^ My forehead by the sea-breeze fanned ; 
The air is cool, the day grows late, 
While ships come in the Golden Gate. 

Some vessels anchor in the bay, 
Where silver ripples ever play ; 
While many speed their, courses straight, 
To leave the loads of precious freight. 

Friends meet again, who in long years 
Oft bathed a parting gift with tears ; 
Now r sweetest smiles play o'er each face, 
And love springs into love's embrace. 

And there are others on the main, 
Who strive this destined port to gain ; 
And count the hours that pass away, 
Till they are safe within the bay. 

While here upon this wave-washed strand, 
I'm thinking of a brighter land : — 
Where loved and loving ones await, 
To lead within a "pearly gate." 



COMPETENCE. 157 

And in that land more fair than this, 
Of endless peace and love and bliss, 
Dear friends will meet to part no more ; 
Abiding on the golden shore. 

O, happy will that meeting be ! 
When we shall cross Time's restless sea. 
And furl at Inst the storm-worn sails 
That caught the breath of heavenly gales. 

O, I rejoice that angel guides 
Direct our barks across the tides ; 
Until we join the happy throng, 
In their bright Summer Land of song ! 
San Francisco, California, 1864. 



COMPETENCE. 

Mff i) ° not ask for stores of weaith 

^|3 Nor luxury or case ; 

But for the precious boon of health. 

And some dear ones to please, 
With o;entle words and deeds of love, 

That make life fair and sweet : 
A blessed type of that above 

When rounded out complete : 
And with my daily wants supplied, 
I need not ask for more beside. 



158 POEMS B Y FBANK S WEET. 

MY ANGEL NAME. 

A SONG. 

It (11^ ^ a ^ ^ l * r ^ an( ^ °^ ^ ove an< ^ truth, 
^^ That wears the glow of endless youth ', 

Where fadeless beauty ever roves 

Amid the bright, immortal groves ; 

And sweeter voices wake the strains 

That echo o'er celestial plains, 
Where no shadows ever came, — 
What will be my Angel Name ? 

When cares and toils of earth are o'er, 
I catch the gleam of shining shore, 
And nearer view, in perfect light, 
A sinless band in robes of white ; — 
Will they, the blest of holier birth, 
Who welcome there the loved of earth, — 

Will they greet me with the same, 

Or another, brighter name ? 



O, not the one they call thee now ! 
While care and sorrow change the brow, 
And while ye hope, aspire and pray 
For light to cheer the perfect way, 
That leads across the azure sea, 
Where Glory's crown awaiteth thee ; — 
Sweeter far, than earth may claim, 
There will be thy Angel Name ! 



PEACE. 159 



PEACE. 

jjpjj/EACE roved among the youthful bowers, 
^§g At early dawn of Time ; 
And meekly kissed the fair young flowers 
Of Eden's golden prime. 

The dove within the Ark that sought, 

And did obtain release, 
Returning there again, it brought 

The olive branch of peace. 

p eaC e — was the song the angels sung 

In ancient land of dreams, 
Where shepherds kept their nocks among 

The bright Arcadian streams. 

This rich bequest a Savior made : — 
"My peace I leave with you ;" 

When he the Father's will obeyed. 
And from the world withdrew. 

Ano-el of Peace ! forever bright, — 
Come once for aye, and pour 

A calm, serene, and holy light, 
On every earthly shore ! 



160 P0E3IS B Y FRANK 8 WEE T. 

THE ANGEL'S SONG. 
I. 



LET us sing the angel's song ! 
'{p That came so strangely sweet and clear, 



Down from the bright, immortal throng, 
To greet the shepherd's listening ear : 
Sing till the echoes reach the sky — 
" Glory to God," who reigns on high ! 

II. 
Hail to the glory-beaming star 

That glistened with a wondrous light, 
To guide the Magi from afar, 

To Him who shone in Error's night. 
To lead earth's superstitious throng, 
Out of the long dark night of Wrong ! 

III. 
O, cast away all wrong and hate ! 

And with your soul baptized with love, 
Help lift men from their low estate 

To heights of bliss and light above ; 
And you can sing with angels then : — 
4 'Peace on the earth, s^ood will to men !" 




■KJROEA. 



1UR0BA. 163 



AURORA. 




OW fair Aurora comes — 
< The Goddess of the Morning," — 
Without the beat of drums 
To serve the slightest warning ; 
And with her golden spears of light, 
Attacks the sable hosts of Night ! 

And swift they fly away, 
Like vanquished foes retreating, 
Until this Herald of the Day, 
Her victory completing, 
Sends out her squadrons through the air, 
And plants her standards everywhere ! 

O come, thou Queen of Light ! 
The darkness ever scorning, 

And make the meadows bright, 
With beads of dew adorning ; 
And in the bright and golden hours, 
Kiss all the dew from off the flowers ! 




164 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 

GOOD TEMPLARS' INVITATION. 

(Presenting a glass of water.) 

$OME, take this water, pure and free ; 
'Tis better than all drinks beside ; 
And pledge your word that it shall be 
Your only drink — all else denied. 

Nature distilled the crystal draught, 
With cloud and air, and golden sun : 

A better drink was never quaffed, 
And will not be till time is done, 

It sparkles down the mountain side, 
And sings along a pebbly bed ; 

This wine of peace, a crystal tide, 

Flows down when nightly dews are shed. 

Come, if the youthful glow of health 
Is one of your rich treasures now ; 

Resolve no wine shall take the wealth 
Of brilliant eye, and radiant brow ! 

Then will the music of the streams, 
That wafts so sweetly on the air, 

Bring to your spirit bright day-dreams ; 
And all the world will seem more fair. 



EVENING. 165 

Your path will shine in clearer light, 
While pleasures beam with golden hue ; 

And clouds above will seem more bright, 
That fill health's chalice full for you. 

Come, while joy sparkles in your way, 
Bright as the brooklet' s spray at even , 

And cheering hope, with silver ray, 
Will brighten all your path to heaven. 




EVENING. 

iHEN the toilers cease 
From their work, and peace 
Like a dove broods o'er the land ; 

As the sun goes down, 

And the bright stars crown 
The blue dome so fair and grand ; 

Through the gates of day, 

Like a child at play, 
The bright Evening comes apace ; 

Till the clear outline 

Of her form divine, 
On the earth and sky I trace. 



166 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



NEARER HOME. 

MjI'M nearer Heaven, my home, to-day 
jf$ Than I have been before ; 
Nearer the angel bands that stray 
Across the golden shore. 

Nearer the city grand and fair, 

My Father's house on high ; 
Nearer the many mansions where 

No clouds can veil the sky. 

Nearer the shining, jasper walls ; 

Nearer the robes of white ; 
Nearer the throne of Him who calls 

Up to that world of light. 

Nearer a land more fair than this, 
Where fadeless flowers shine ; 

Nearer the bowers of endless bliss, 
Where dwelleth Love divine. 

Nearer the open, pearly gate : — 

I lay my burden down, 
To do my Master's work, and wait 

Till he bestows the crown ! 



THE BATN-BOW. 167 



THE RAIN-BOW. 

St® 

pxtLL the morn the rain poured down 
*JEgk> On the country and the town ; 
On the mountains and the hills ; 
On the rivers and the rills ; 
On the ocean, and the seas ; 
On the flowers and the trees ; 
Dashing 'gainst the window pane, 
Beating down the fields of grain ; 
Bursting out the river banks ; 
Filling all the water tanks ; 
Flooding all the fields of corn. 
Making farmers look forlorn : 
Soaking furrows of the field, 
That will harvest-treasures yield ; 
Making all the pastures green. 
Where the o-razino- herds are seen. 
Not a song or note of bird, 
In the summer fields w T as heard ; 
But new brooks in meadows ran, 
That the bridges did not span ; 
Flowing in the marts of trade, 
In new channels they had made. 
Until noon, the rain poured down 
On the fields nnd on the town. 



168 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEE T. 

Then the golden star of day 
Broke the heavy clouds away ; 
And the glorious arch of blue 
Seemed to wear a brighter hue ; 
While the birds that afternoon 
Sang a sweet and merry tune. 
Lovers in the summer bowers, 
And the rosy cheeks of flowers, 
Were by gentle zephyrs kissed : 
And the heavenly alchemist 
Covered all the hills with gold ; 
And in beauty was unrolled, 
On a cloud, the bow of peace : — 
Token which should never cease, — 
That the world w T ould not again 
Be destroyed by floods of rain. 
Brilliant gems are on the flowers ; 
Greener are the leafy bowers ; 
Fairer is the earth and sky, 
With the rainbow huns: on high, 
That reveals in splendor bright, 
All the brilliant hues of light. 
May that bow of promise be — 
Pledge of good, to you and me. 



THE VOICE OF GOD. IM 



THE VOICE OF GOD. 



fAR back in Eden's lovely bowers, 
Where Eve and Adam trod 
Among earth's fairest trees and flowers, 
They heard the voice of God. 

No more from out the Sinai cloud 

That ancient Israel saw ; 
Amid its thunders long and loud, 

Does God reveal His law. 

We need not see the burning bush 

That greeted Moses' eye ; 
Nor hear the mighty whirlwind rush, 

To know that God is nigh. 

His voice was heard in Bethlehem, 

And youthful David came 
To wear a royal diadem, 

And win immortal fame. 

Not often with the sign of fire, 

The call of God is given ; 
But evermore he doth inspire 

The soul with thoughts of heaven. 



170 POEMS B Y FBANK 8 WEET. 

And ever will the "still small voice," 
Ring from the heights above, 

And bid us evermore rejoice, 
In the rich gifts of Love. 

For by His spirit now and here, 
He gives a pledge of good, 

As sure as when the Hebrew seer, 
On Horeb's mountain stood. 

And in our very hearts, he writes 
His laws with burning pen ; 

And with the star of Hope he lights 
His children now — as then. 

He ever sends the words of power 
That thrill from tongues of fire ; 

And true souls in life's darkest hour, 
May hear an angel choir. 

Forevermore the trusting child 
Can hear the voice of God ; 

That calls in accents sweet and mild, 
To grander heights untrod. 

It was His voice that Luther heard, 
In error's darkest night ; 

Which at Creation, spake the word 
That filled the world with light. 



THE VOICE OF GOD. 171 

His voice did holy martrys hear 

In rugged Alpine home ; 
That banished every lingering fear 

Of all the powers at Rome. 

And ever will the voice of Him 

Who calmed lake Galilee, 
Ring from the spheres of Seraphim, 

And say — " Come unto me ! " 

Though you may never hear the wings 

Of angels passing by 
Or see a messenger that brings 

Gifts from the world on high ; 

Yet shall the Truth, with holy light 
Flash through each earnest soul ; 

Revealing to the spirit's sight — 
Its work and destined goal. 

"A still small voice" doth ever call 
In ways that Christ hath trod, 

And we should heed it, one and all, — 
It is — the Voice of God ! 



172 POEMS BY FBANK SWEET. 



TREASURES IN HEAVEN. 

"Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.' 



^|™0T silver, gold, nor jewels rare, 
fc) Or large estate of fruitful lands ; 
Can ever be our treasures there 

In that grand ' ' house not made with hands." 

But dearer far than gems or gold, 

Are wisdom, goodness, truth and love : 

These treasures are not bought or sold, 
Yet each can lay them up above. 

Peace and good-will, and friendship true, 
Freely received, and freely given ; 

With every noble deed Ave do, — 

Help make our treasures up in Heaven. 



TELL ME DARLING:' ^ 



«TELL ME DARLING." 

A SONG. 

JIeLL me Darling, while the flowers 
jj| Bloom amid the summer bowers, 
And the fragrant zephyrs now, 
Kiss thy fair and noble brow ;— 
Tell me, in your sweetest tone, 
That your love is all my own. 

While the pure and golden light 
Makes the world so fair and bright ; 
And the bright-eyed flowers gleam. 
By the sweetly singing stream ; 
Say to me, in accents low, 
"Where thou goest, I will go.* 1 

While the fields of golden grain, 
Crown with beauty all the plain ; 
And the laden fruit-trees bend, 
With the blessings God doth send ; — 
Tell me, dearest one, to-day. 
That you will be mine — for aye. 




174 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



ONE BY ONE. 



ILENTLY life's golden sands 
* Pass Time's hour glass one by one 
So the Night with trembling hands, 
Drops her folds when day is done. 



One by one the nations rise, 

Gathering wealth and fame and power ; 
While the days with cloudless skies, 

Pass them swiftly hour by hour. 

One by one the changeful years 

Speed forever in their flight ; 
One by one the starry spheres 

Come to deck the brow of Night. 

One by one life's duties call 

On each soul to dare and do, 
Till the evening shadows fall, 

With a purpose firm and true. 

Toiling all the golden day, 

Till the setting of the sun, 
We can mount the shining way 

O*" "he bright steps one by one. 



THINK OF ME. 175 

One by one the opening flowers 

Scatter fragrance on the air ; 
Making all the summer bowers 

Far more bright and sweet and fair. 

Word by word and thought by thought, 

One by one they come to me, 
Till the chain of son£ is wrought- 

From the soul's sw^eet melody. 

One by one the blessings fall 

From our Father's hand of love : 

Gifts he giveth unto all : — 
Thus he leads to realms above. 



THINK OF ME. 



\&^ the early morning hours, 
p When the dew-drops gem the flowers 
That perfume the healthful breeze ; 
And all sights and sounds doth please ; 
When thy spirit breathes its prayer, 
For the heavenly gifts a share ; — 
Think of me ! 




176 POEMS B Y FBANK S WEET. 



'A BETTER COUNTRY." 



INHERE is a land that shines forever, 
In golden light of endless day ; 
Where not a shadow passeth ever, 
Forbidden o'er that land to stray. 

And there the trees of life are growing, 
Whose leaves are for the nations' cure ; 

Beside perpetual waters flowing 

Like liquid diamonds, bright and pure. 

There sweet perfumes of flowers ever 

Waft on the soft inspiring air ; 
And sweetest music rings forever, 

From the angelic choirs there. 

There dwell in peace the blest immortals, 
Where skies are always clear and bright ; 

And all who pass the pearly portals, 
Will shine as golden stars of light. 

And there the fields are always vernal, 
Where perfect love and peace abide ; 

And we may share the joys supernal, 
Forever with the glorified. 



PURITY. 177 



PURITY. 

floUTE seen the lily of the fields 
% With leaves of purest white outspread ; 
And oft a humble violet 

That seemed to bow its modest head : 

You've seen the countless stars at night, 
Flash light across the azure sea ; 

And thought that purer far than this, 
Each one of those fair orbs might be : 

You've seen the golden gates of Day, 
Swing wide to let the sunlight down ; 

After the stars had, one by one, 

Dropt out of Night's fair jeweled crown : 

And children, in life's sunny hours, 

All full of innocence and glee, 
Stray out among the fair white flowers, 

And fill the air with melody. 

But fairer than the snow-white flowers, 
And brighter than the stars can be ; 

A gem forever sparkling in 

Life's golden crown, is Purif;/. 



POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 



LIFE. 



re 



UR life is like a golden stream, 
That sweetly glides in early hours 
Bright as the stars in zenith gleam, 
Dispensing light in radiant showers. 



Onward it flows in halcyon youth, 

Lighted with Hope from realms above ; 

Drinking each day from founts of truth ; 
Basking in light of heavenly love. 

But with the wisdom and the might 
Of true manhood, it carves a way 

From lowly vale to mountain's height, 
Where wreaths of peace and honor lay. 

Life's grandest prize cannot be ours 
In this primary sphere below ; 

But if we task the spirit's powers, 
We shall obtain a crown — I know. 

Grand is that life, and full of cheer, 
That makes the path of others bright ; 

Rejoicing to do good while here, 
Led on by love's unfailing light. 



LIFE. 179 



Life cannot reach its shining goal, 
While here upon this earthly strand : 

The powers of the immortal soul, 
Will through eternal years expand. 

Our life is one eternal school ; 

Each soul must its own lessons learn • 
Who does not learn remains a fool, 

And doth the richest blessings spurn. 

Therefore delve earth, in search of truth. 

And scan the mighty worlds above : 
Trace out the secret springs of youth, 

Outgushing from eternal Love. 

The Stars of Life do not go down ; 

They rise to light a fairer shore ; 
And in its golden, jeweled crown — ■ 

They shine in glory evermore ! 



180 POEMS B Y FllANK S WEET 



EVERMORE. 

)^(feOW sweet 'twill be to meet again, 

When earthly cares are o'er, 
The loved ones on the heavenly plain — 
To dwell there evermore. 

And sweeter far, when God's own hand 

Shall wipe our tears away ; 
And lead us in the Promised Land — 

To be His own — for aye. 

And sweet the joy, when mansions fair 

With brighter eyes we see ; 
And know our home with blest ones there, 

Is evermore to be. 

There with a bright immortal throng, 

To roam celestial plains ; 
And sing with joy, Life's endless song — 

In purest, sweetest strains. 

And clad in raiment pure and white, 

Dwell on that golden shore ; 
And be God's messengers of light — 
With angels, evermore ! 



'DEB SCRONER FRURL1NG." 181 



DEE SCHONER FRUHLING." 

^PRING has come from southern bowers, 
H§=^0 With a lovely robe of flowers ; 
Lightly tripping o'er the hills, 
To the music of the rills. 
Mountain springs their fetters break ; 
Nature's thousand voices wake ; 
Brooks are singing in the vale ; 
Sweetest odors scent the gale. 
Violets with modest eyes, 
Drink the azure of the skies ; 
Daisies fair, and lilies white, 
Lift their heads to kiss the light. 
Fair-plumed birds on airy wing 
At the sunrise soar and sing ; 
While the dew in morning hours. 
Decks with pearls, the lovely flowers. 
Happy children in their play 
Weave their garlands sweet and gay. 
Tis the seed-time of the year, 
And all hearts are full of cheer. 
Pledge of harvests yet to be, 
Every Spring-time brings to me ; 
Therefore I delight to sing 
Of the blessings of the Spring. 



182 FOEMS B Y FllANK 8 WEET. 



THE UNSEEN. 



|^(||0W short and dim is mortal sight, 
V0&1 That cannot pierce the mystic veil 
Between us and that world of light, 
Whose noon-tide splendors never fail. 

Our frail bark built on earthly strand, 
Is wafted by the breath of God 

Across life's sea, to that bright land 
By beautiful feet of angels trod ! 

Sometimes the sky and waves are dark ; 

For dimly shines the light here given, 
By which to guide our wayward bark 

Into the sheltered ports of heaven. 

Though darkness oft surrounds our way, 
If we but trust our angel guides, 

We cannot miss the gates of Day, 
Whatever here our course betides ! 

Two worlds so near and yet so far ; 

One sea between, yet quickly crossed ; 
Above each bark a guiding star, 

So that it never may be lost ! 



THE UNSEEN. 183 

O, when the storms are overpast, 

And we shall gain the ports of bliss ; 

Then in that grander life at last, 

We '11 not regret the storms of this ! 

«- 

There we shall see as we are seen, 
And ever know as we are known ; 

And not a cloud will intervene 

Between us and our Fathers throne ! 

While winds may roar and waves may smite, 

I firmly trust an unseen Hand 
Will lead from darkness into light 

That shines upon the golden strand ! 

Gleams of that brighter shore I see ; 

I scent the fragrance of its flowers ; 
And oft its tones of melody, 

Allure me to immortal bowers ! 



184 POEMS B Y FRANK SWEET. 

"WHY STAND YE HERE IDLE?" 

I. 

oMiMpWi stand ye idle all the day ? 
i^yPig) The harvest-fields are white ! 
God will each faithful reaper pay, 

In yon fair world of light ! 
No gold or silver may be given, — 
But life and light and bliss of heaven ! 

II. 
O, teach the children here below, 

To light their earthly way, 
With loving words and deeds that ^low 

Like golden stars for aye ! 
For all who do the will divine 
In God's eternal kingdom shine. 

III. 
Round thee a world in error lies, 

That needs the lamp of Truth, 
To guide it upward to the skies, 

To springs of endless youth ! 
And all who scatter truth and love, 
Will gain a home of bliss above ! 



LOVE OF GOD. 185 



LOYE OF GOD. 

?HERE is no love like the love of God, 
JMk Which he gives to the children of men. 
Leading those back who wander abroad, 
To the bliss of his presence again. 

Far and wide o'er the land and the sea, 
It goes on its mission day and night ; 

Taking the proud heart, making it free 
As a temple for the Lord of light. 

How wonderful is the mighty love 

That triumphs o'er the powers of sin ; 

And lifts the soul to the gates above, 
Where the children of God enter in. 

In the glad sometime, our feet may stand 
On the street of the city of gold ; 

And we shall sing with the angel band, 
Of the love that can never be told. 

No gem will shine in the glorious crown 
That saints may wear in the land above ; 

With a ceaseless radiance flashing down. 
Like the wonderful jewel of Love ! 



186 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



FAITH. 



J&B LIFT mine eyes up to those hills 
^ Whence all my help must come ; 
And Faith my soul with rapture fills, 
In view of heaven, my home. 

Where'er this earthly path is trod, 

The darkest I have known, 
I'd rather walk by faith with God, 

Than walk by sight alone. 

Faith bridges o'er the darkling stream 
That bounds the realms of Time ; 

And very short the arches seem, 
That reach the blissful clime. 

Help me to cling with firmer trust, 

O, God of Love, to thee ! 
Then in the pathway of the just, 

Secure my steps shall be. 

O ! bid my fretful passions cease, 
'Till patience learns her part ; 

Impress the reign of perfect peace, 
Within my doubting heart ! 



THE TRIUMPH. 187 

And while I tread this narrow way, 
Make it shine more and more, 

Approaching to that perfect day 
That tints the golden shore. 

Lord, let an angel clasp my hand 

In death's sure-coming night, 
And lead me to that blessed land 

Where Faith is lost in sisrht ! 



THE TRIUMPH 



Q2 




!p? RUTH and Justice are eternal ; 
Light and Love will conquer all ; 
And upon the heights supernal, 
Shall a golden radiance fall ; 
For the Wrong shall flee away, 
And the sunny Right hold sway 
In celestial spheres, for aye ! 



188 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



TRUE GREATNESS. 



wj^EASURE not the great of earth 




: -t"'C 



By the wealth they hold in trust 
For the spirit's second birth 

Leaves such greatness in the dust. 

Seekest thou the heights of fame, 
In the path by mortals trod? — 

Love thy fellows, serve the same, 
Leaving all the rest with God. 

Up the shining hills of life, 
Step by step each day we rise, 

Through the fields of toil and strife — 
There the path of honor lies. 



Ever doing what is right ; 

Searching ever for the truth ; 
Looking up for strength and light ; — 

Then come fame, and endless youth 

Tasking thus our noblest powers, 
Hour by hour, and day by day, — 

Fame and glory will be ours, 
That will never pass away. 



THEiDE W-DB OP'S MISSION. 189 



THE DEW-DROP'S MISSION. 

§T the early twilight hour 
Come the tiny dew-drops down ; 
And at morn each wayside flower 
Sparkles like a jeweled crown. 

They revive the drooping rose, 
And the humble violet blue ; 

And every flower and leaf that grows, 
Drinks the crystal drops of dew. 

Softly falling on the plain. 

On the meadows green and bright. 
On the fields of golden grain, 

Through the silent hours of night. 

Thus a wonder-working Power 
Helps to give the form and hue 

To each fruit and grain and flower, 
With the pure and sparkling dew. 

Kindly acts and words of cheer, 

Free as dew-drops, should be given ; 

They will light the pathway here ; 
They will lead the soul to Heaven. 




190 POEMS B Y FBANK S WEET. 



A SILVEK WEDDING. 

jULL twenty years and five have sped 
Away on wings of light, 
And Heaven's blessings on you shed, 

Are your best gifts to-night : 
The gold of earth cannot compare 
With true affections which you share. 

We bring you gifts from love's sweet bowers, 

That nevermore may fade ; 
And large bouquets of fragrant flowers, 

Fair as the Lord has made ; 
And other tokens bring you here, 
Your earthly lives to bless and cheer. 

Within the province of your home, 

The spoiler never came ; 
And none have thought it joy to roam 

Afar for earthly fame : — 
So while in unison we meet — 
Kejoice, the circle is complete. 

Still do your part of honest toil 

In fields of noble strife ; 
Thus hammer out the golden foil 

That paves the streets of life ; 



A SILVER WEDDING. 191 

For those who labor, lead the van 
To victory for God and man. 

Twenty-live years of wedded bliss 

Have swiftly passed away ; 
With Fortune's frown or Fortune's kiss, 

You neither rue the day 
That made the happy twain but one,— 
As blended streams together run. 

The ties that bind each trusting heart, 
Will grow more strong and bright, 

Until life's silver cord shall part — 
The spirit soar to light ; 

And then celestial joys will be 

As lasting as eternity. 

Rejoice ! and praise the Lord to-day, 

For mercies he has shown ; 
And ask that he will light the way 

To his eternal throne ; 
And grant to each, forevermore, 
A home upon the golden shore ! 




192 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

MEMORIAL POEM. 

May 30. 

ffiJHEN Traitors marshalled all their host 
^g> In dread compact neath Southern skies ; 
Their chiefest glory and their boast, 
Was but a Charter framed in lies ! 

They sought to take the Nation's life ; 

To rend this lovely land in twain ; 
And brought about a cruel strife 

That made the South a battle-plain. 

The wise men saw their real intent 
Was to increase a race of slaves ; 

And forthwith loyal legions went 

To overthrow those southern braves ! 

For four long years they fought the foe, 
On hill and plain, and on the sea : 

And shrank no danger, pain or woe, 
Till they were crowned with victory. 

Though thousands in the conflict fell, 
And poured their life-blood on the sod 

Each noble soul, we know full well, 
Gained larger liberty of God ! 



MEMORIAL POEM. 193 

Since they by trial, toil and pain, 
Enlarged the bonds of Liberty ; - 

Now let us hide war's crimson stain, 
With faith and hope, and Charity ! 

And as to-day we deck with flowers, 
The graves of heroes true and brave ; 

Think how they loved this land of ours, 
And freely gave their lives — to save ! 

Rejoice, that in the realms afar, 

They now are free from mortal strife 

Where no unholy passions mar 
The glory of an endless life ! 

Strong was the hand and warm the heart, 
Of those who in the conflict stood, 

And bravely did a patriot's part, 
For this, and other nations' good. 

Our land was Freedom's battle field ; 

Through furnace fires was victory won ; 
But loyal hosts could never yield, 

Until they saw God's will was done ! 

Our grateful love springs up anew, 
As we to-day these tokens bring 

From fields and gardens bright with dew ; 
The sweet and lovely flowers of Spring. 



194 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

While thousands sleep in unknown graves 
Far down beneath the southern sky ; 

Above their dust our banner waves, 
But their freed spirits dwell on high. 

When to the Slave, this Nation said — 
' * You now are free ! " an unseen Power, 

Our armies on to victory led ; 

For it was God's redeeming hour ! 



'O 



We thank him that the war is past, 
And this whole nation now is free ! 

But dare not venture to forecast 
Our grand and glorious destiny. 

Still God doth turn and overturn ! 

Prepares for grander things to be ! 
Yet by his chastening rod we learn 

The fearful price of Liberty ! 

This nation saved from traitor hands, 

Is dearer far than e'er before ; 
The very Queen of all the lands ; 

For Freedom reigns from shore to shore. 

Oppressors here may never bind 
Their fetters on a single slave ; 

For we maintain that all mankind 

Are free, where our bright flag doth wave. 



MEMORIAL POEM. 195 

True Freedom is the gift of God ! 

Which he bestows alike on all ; 
And they who smite with Slavery's rod, 

Low in the dust of shame shall fall ! 

Cast all the shafts of Hate away : 

Let love and peace encircle all 
Who wore the Blue, or wore the Grey ; — 

Be loyal hence, whate'er befall ! 

For the swift-coming years will bring 
The happy time when war shall cease ; 

And men and angels join to sing 
The song of Universal Peace ! 

Here Freedom's temple ever stands, 
With sacred portals open wide : 

Who serves the Eight with willing hands, 
May enter and be glorified ! 

Still there are foes for us to fight, 

And glorious victories to win : 
Our aids are angels of the light, 

To overthrow the powers of sin ! 

Strike earnest blows against all wron£, 
Nor ever lay your armor down ; 

Till Peace sin^s her immortal song, 
And each has gained a victor's crown. 



196 P0E3I8 B Y FRANK SWEET. 

Drive Error from the world away, 
With radiant Truth's eternal light ; 

And everything that shuns the day, 
Sink in oblivion's sea of night ! 

While there are wrongs for us to right ; 

The strong oppress the weak and poor : 
Gird on your armor for the fight ; 

A glorious victory is sure ! 

The sunny Right can never fail, 

Though in the dust it seems to fall ! 

And Truth and Justice will prevail ; 
And Love at last, shall conquer all ! 

Fear not the scorn of men below ; 

Look to the martyr's crown above ! 
For sorrow's chastening rod we know, 

Will blossom out with perfect love. 

Rejoice ! the morning cometh yet ; 

The shining fields will then be trod, 
And loving angels there will set 

Upon your brows, the crowns of God ! 



TO A STAR. 197 




TO A STAR. 



ii^HOU art a brilliant gem 
Set in the crown of Night ; 
And from her diadem 

Flash down thy sparkling light. 

With sister planets thou 

Dost shine in glory there ; 

And help drive from my brow 
The heavy clouds of care. 

O, sometime may I shine 

Among the Sons of Light ! 

With radiance equal thine, 

Amonsr the stars to-nijfht ! 




198 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



AUTUMN. 

'HE long summer days are ended, 
And the reaper's work is done, 
And the fading flowers are blended 
In the rays of the autumn sun. 

Now the forest leaves are turning 
To a deeper tint and shade ; 

While for truth my soul is yearning 
In this temple God has made. 

Clouds like mystic banners flying. 
Seem as heralds of the breeze ; 

Whose prophetic voice is sighing 
Solemnly among the trees. 

Now we see the flowers dying 
All around us day by day ; 

And we learn- —truth undenying — 
That earth's fairest pass away. 

But we know earth's fairest Flowers, 
On a bright and golden shore, 

Bloom again in fadeless bowers 
In the bright forevermore ! 



AUTUMN. 199 

And they come from heights of glory, 
Bright with heaven's richest glow, — 

Come to tell Love's sweetest story 
To the ones they left below. 

It is earth's divinest pleasure — 
Here to know that from above, 

They can bring the priceless treasure 
Of their pure and perfect love. 

Some there are with clearer vision, 

Who can see them in the air ; 
While they tell of joys elysian, 

Where the fields are always fair. 

Where the autumn shades of sadness 

Flit across the soul no more ; 
But that perfect love and gladness, 

Make it spring-time, evermore ! 

If we task our highest powers, 
In the wa}'s the Good have trod, 

We shall be like fragrant flowers 
In the gardens f our God ! 




200 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 

SPEINGS OF JOY. 

I. 

M$HILE the heavens shine above, 
*ggj And the blest ones that I love, 
Come to me with smiling faces, 
Gentle words and charming graces ; 
I can never more repine, — 
Since such glorious quests are mine ! 

II. 

What if earthly friends forsake ; 

And our worldly treasures take 

To them wings and fly away ; 

1 will never fear dismay ; 

For my joy has higher springs, 

Than our common earth-born things ! 

III. 
Human joys may pass away, 
And all earthly things decay ; 
But the soul has richer treasures 
In heaven's overflowing measures : — 
Having love and truth in store, 
We have joy forevermore ! 



"SIC ITUR AD ASTBA." 201 

"SIC ITUR AD ASTRA." 

||){||f y° u would climb Fame's golden hills 
^P Until you reach the highest goal. 
Where Peace, with choicest nectar, fills 
The crystal chalice of the soul : — 

The fountain of Love's richest mead, 
Must ever flow out from your heart ; 

And you must grant to those in need 
Of daily gifts, a generous part. 

On Mercy's errands quickly go 

With willing feet, when she doth call ; 

And with kind words and actions, show 
A noble charity for all. 

On golden stairs you then will rise 
To heights of everlasting Fame ; 

And every angel of the skies, 

Would sing the honors of your name. 

The glory then of your renown. 

Will 2,0 on wings of light abroad ; 
And you will wear Life's jeweled crown, 

With the immortal sons of God ! 



202 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 




FATHER, THY WILL BE DONE ! " 

>p:IS an easy thing in childhood's days 

Ere the heart has felt the touch of care 
To lift up the voice in cheerful praise, 

And in hope and faith repeat the prayer : — 
Father, thy will be done ! 

And in halcyon years of hopeful youth, 
When the eager heart is free from guile ; 

And the world seems ruled by love and truth, 
And kind Nature wears her sweetest smile : — 
Father, thy will be done ! 

And when stalwart manhood come§ with power, 
And the soul is brave to dare and do ; 

When our foes are vanquished every hour, 
And the friends we love are tried and true : — 
Father, thy will be done ! 

When the stream of wealth comes pouring in, 
And sweet joy and gladness light the hours, 

So we scarcely see the trace of sin 

For the robe of Eden fruits and flowers : — 
Father, thy will be done ! 



"FATHER, THY WILL BE DONE" 203 

But when Age pours on the head its snows, 
And the youthful hopes are swept away, 

And you deeply drink life's cup of woes ; 
They are noble souls who then can say : — 
Father, thy will be done ! 

Blest are we when earthly helpers fail, 

And our wealth takes wings and flies away, 

If we can from sorrow's deepest vale, 

Look beyond our tears to heaven and pray :— 
Father, thy will be done ! 

And if through these years of good and ill, 
With a patient trust, His way is trod : 

Then Life's grand ideal is ours, if still 

From our hearts this is our prayer to God : — 
Father, thy wilt be done ! 



204 POEMS BY riiAJVK SWEET 



OVER THE RIVER. 



/MwVVER the river, some call Death, 
Wf(p ^ l {in d of beauty lies ; 
Fann'd by the gentle Summer's breath, 
No flower ever dies. 

Its pearly gates are open wide, 

To let the blest ones in, 
E'er crossing to the other side — 

From earthly strife and sin. 

No sorrows mar the happy band 
Who dwell in endless day ; 

Or go at mercy's high command, 
On errands far away. 

In higher spheres of life, they now 
Trace out God's wise designs : 

While on each pure and peaceful brow, 
A crown of glory shines. 

An angel's tongue may yet be mine. 

Those sweeter songs to sing ; 
With thought and language more divine 

To praise my heavenly King. 




JSTAK8. 205 

STARS 

I. 

H P to the sparkling stars that run 

Their nightly rounds when day is done ; 
I look to see them flash and play 
In groups along the Milky Way ; 
While the blue heavens I behold, 
Seem sprinkled o'er with living gold. 

II. 

They are like lamps above us set 
To guide our wayward feet, and yet 
A grander mission they fulfill : — 
They show the Maker's matchless skill ; 
Who formed and fashioned every star 
That blazes in the depths afar ! 

III. 

What brighter beings there may dwell, 
With sweeter joys than I can tell : 
All happy in their present state. 
But strive to be more good and great ; 
And rise to grander heights above, — 
By wisdom, goodness, truth and love. 




*06 POEMS B Y FBANK 8 WEET 



OUR LIVES. 

I^EABS may come, and years may go, 
S^Vq Like the waves that ebb and flow ; 
But they pass no soul in vain — 
Who lives once, shall live again. 

Stars may rise and stars may set 
In the realms of glory yet, 
When the soul has passed away 
Through the gates to endless day. 

O, what streams of good and ill 
Pour into our hearts, and fill 
All our lives with dark and light, — 
Till the wrong gives place to right. 



Sure, this life of ill and good, 
Is, if rightly understood, 
By the things withheld and given, 
Formed and ordered up in heaven, 

We shall know that all was best, 
In the life among the blest ; 
And that on the way we trod, 
Ever shone the smile of God. 




PLEAS UBES OF HOME. 207 



PLEASURES OF HOME. 

jiplHE sweetest place in all the earth. 
Is where the loved ones dwell ; 
Where pure affections have their birth, 
And joys no tongue can tell ; — 
And that is Home. 

The dwellers of that blissful place, 
Earth's sweetest joys impart ; 

And every loving form and face 
Are treasured in each heart 
That loves the home. 

Though one may roam in lands afar 

Across the ocean tide ; 
The soul discerns its guiding star ; — 

No cloud or space can hide 
The light of home. 

The central sun of earthly day, 

The star above its night, 
To show the bright and blessed way 

With pure and constant light ; — 
Is home, sweet Home ! 




208 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



SUMMER. 

iHARMING is the summer morn, 
When the sun uprises bright, 
Bathing every hill and dale 

With its streams of liquid light. 

While the breath of Summer roves — 
In and out the dewy spray — 

Tiny birds, on golden wings, 
Sing their joyous lives away. 

Sweet the fall of Summer shower 
On the fields of waving grain ; 

While each brightly tinted flower 
Doth the pearly drops retain. 

All along the fairy vale, 

Now the sweet wild-flowers blow ; 
Where the sparkling waters glide, 

Making music sweet and low. 

Straying through the woods and fields, 

Merry children laugh and play, 
And return in joyous glee 
Decked with garlands sweet and gay. 



SUMMER. 211 

Sweet the stories lovers tell 
In the fairest summer bowers, 

While on mossy seats they twine 

Bright bouquets of wild-wood flowers. 

Nature yields her richest stores 

In the balmy summer time ; 
Wealth and pleasure flows to all, 

While the year is in its prime. 

O, how brightly gleam the rills ! 

Flowing from the cooling springs : 
Words must ever fail to tell 

All the joy that Summer brings. 

When the golden twilight falls, 

Like a veil o'er hill and dell, 
Peace oft comes to weary souls. 

Like sweet waters from the well. 

All these things that charm our eyes, 
In the beauteous earth abroad, 

Reflecting glory from the skies, 
Are the wondrous works of God. 



212 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEE T. 




LIFE'S LABOR SONG. 



HE music of life's labor song, 
I would in thrilling notes prolong ; 
For all good things, like golden foil, 
Are beaten out by honest toil. 

The labor of our souls and hands, 
Fulfill the Higher Law's demands ; 
Who on the fruits of others thrive, 
Are simply drones in God's great hive. 

Go bravely then and do your part, 
With willing hand and cheerful heart ; 
O, help to clear and pave the way, 
That leads the soul to brighter day ! 

Since God has bid us plant and sow, 
And wait for harvest that shall grow ; 
Go forth into the fields of toil, 
To plant and sow^, and till the soil. 

Cheered by the singing brooks and birds, 
The bleating lambs and lowing herds ; 
You reap the wealth of sun and showers, 
From harvest fields and fruitful bowers. 



LIFE'S LABOR SONG. 213 

Let hammers beat, and anvils ring 
The chorus of the song we sing ; 
And every voice on land and main, 
Join sweetly in the grand refrain. 

The clicking shuttles as they fly, 
And singing maidens standing by ; 
And murmuring streams that flow along ; 
Help weave the golden threads of song. 

When in earth's varied fields you find 
Employment suited to your mind, 
Wherein to task your highest powers, 
Improve each day the shining hours. 

Each day resist the hosts of Wrong, 
It matters not hoAv fierce and strong 
They are ; the Right shall triumph yet, 
And on your head a crown be set. 

With high and holy aims, press on , 
For all the noble souls have gone 
Up the bright way of truth and right, 
That bask in heaven's eternal light. 

O, be a hero in the strife ! 
And win the victories of life ; 
And though you seem to stand alone, 
Let your grand purposes be known. 



214 POEM 8 B Y FBANK 8 WEE T. 

■ It matters not, if great or small 
The task we do, if after all — 
Throughout the web that we have wrought, 
Shine golden threads of toil and thought. 

If you but strike a minor key, 
In life's great song of harmony, 
Eejoice, in that a humble part 
Is yours in this Eternal Art ! 

But if it be thy lot to stand 
And guide Truth's engine through the land ; 
The Lord will surely give to thee, 
According as thy work shall be. 

Or if along the trembling wire, 
You send the syllables of fire ; 
Use well the power in your hand, 
Only for purpose good and grand. 

Let every note of Labor's song, 
Ring loud and clear, and sweet and strong ; 
Then shall Life's anthem thrill abroad 
Through all the universe of God ! 



MY FOREST SHRINE. 215 



MY FOREST SHRINE. 

jN God's own temple here I feel 
That he is very near ; 
For o'er my spirit now doth steal 
The love that ' « casts out fear ; " 
And so I seek no holier shrine, 
Whereat to ask for light divine ! 

But here I humbly now implore 
The aid which all doth need, 

That comes down from a brighter shore 
To make us blest indeed ; 

And here my fervent thanks are given 

To Him who giveth gifts from heaven ! 

And now it seems this hallowed place 

Is fairer than before ; 
On every flower and tree I trace 

The brightness Eden wore : 
And I claim this as "holy ground," 
As human souls have ever found ! 



216 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY. 

sSpIGHT to the darkened mind, 

G^^ Will go from thee this wide earth round ; 
Freedom to those in error bound ; 

Sight to the spirit-blind : 
Thy work, though grand when first begun, 
Will grow while endless cycles run. 

A star of Empire risen, 
To flash thy beams athwart earth's way, 
And lead souls up to perfect day, 

From bondage and from prison : 
Ye make the slumbering spirits wake, 
And upward rise for Freedom's sake. 

Although we hear no voice. 
Yet speakest thou with mighty power ; 
Knowledge and Truth are thy rich dower 

That makes the world rejoice ; 
Lifting the soul up from the clod, 
To hold communion sweet with God ! 

Truth's ever-living fires 
Upon thy sacred altars glow ; 
And her eternal light shall flow 

Till every heart aspires 



BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY. 217 

For Wisdom's vast and treasured lore, 
Which thou, in flooded streams, doth pour. 

The secret lies with thee, 
How foes of Freedom are dismayed, 
While doors are opened, ways are made 

For larger liberty ; — 
Aurora of a brighter day, — 
Whose light will never fade away. 

Shine on, O glorious star ! 
Send far abroad thy healing beams, 
And tinge with gold life's living streams 

That flow to lands afar : 
And millions basking in thy rays, 
Will render ample meed of praise. 

Grand must thy mission be — 
To give the world each mighty thought 
That Genius hath in secret wrought, 

And that like sunlight — free. 
Flow on glad stream, with current strong, 
Freighted with hope, and peace and song ! 




218 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 



WINTER. 



'AgHE hills and all the plains below, 
Are glistening in their robes of snow. 

The trees upon the mountains, seem 
Like battle hosts, whose lances gleam, 

And flash at morn their silver sheen, 
Down through the vales that lie between. 

The brooks now sing in muffled strains ; 
For they are bound with icy chains. 

Now ruddy youth with coursers fleet, 
Speed swiftly o'er the crystal street ; 

While laugh and song, and chime of bells, 
Make cheerful music in the dells. 

Queen Night strays out in azure halls, 
And white frost from her vesture falls. 

The forest trees with arms all bare, 
Are chilled through with the wintry air. 

The snow and ice hide all the flowers 
In iield and lane, or wood-land bowers. 



WINTER. 219 

Oft in the crowded street Ave tread, 
Are half-clad children, begging bread. 

And he who opens wide his hands, 
Wide as the needful case demands, 

In blessing others, will be blest 
With heavenly gifts that are the best. 

The poor are with us always here ; 
Whom we may comfort, bless and cheer. 

O ye, who dwell in mansions fair ! 
Without a thought of woe or care ; 

Where Love's glad voice forever wells, 
Sweet as the tones of silver bells ; — 

Heed thou the cries of want and woe, 
And kindly charities bestow ! 

Go, clothe the poor, the hungry feed : 
And be a messenger indeed ; 

Like angels, leading up to heaven, 
Where Life's true riches will be given ! 



220 POEMS B Y FRANK SWEET. 



TO ONE IN HEAVEN. 



^5V 



Mw)&> LOVELY one ! though thou dost share 
The angel's home above ; 
Thou bringest through the realms of air, 
The treasures of thy love ! 

And often from thy home of light, 

Thou kindly comest here, 
Arrayed in robes of spotless white, — 

With blessed words of cheer ! 

Sweet Memory reveals the Past ; 

Thy friendship, truth, and love ; 
And Hope says, these rich treasures last 

In your bright home above ! 

" Not of the world," you seemed to be, 

While dwelling here below ; 
Formed for a grander destiny 

Than erring mortals know ! 

I trust that I shall walk that shore, 
Where you with angels shine ; — 

Then life and light for evermore, 
And joy be mine as thine ! 



EVENING HYMN. 221 



EVENING HYMN. 

WwLi Father ! while the shadows fall, 
JpP 5 ' We lift the heart and voice with praise. 

For thy rich gifts that crown our days ; 
Which thou hast given free to all ! 

O may thine angels through the night 
Watch o'er thy children while they sleep, 
And each one from all evil keep ; 

Nor leave them at the morning light ! 

O, still may they through all the day, 
As the sweet messengers of thine, 
Bring to each one the joy divine 

That ever cheers their brighter way ! 

O, Father ! from thy heights above, 
On all thy children here below. 
Wilt thou thy richest gifts bestow, 

And teach us how to show our love ! 



222 POEMS BY FMANK SWEET. 




SUNDAY SCHOOL SEMI-CENTENNIAL, 



iG^ULL fifty years, on wings of Light, 

Like carrier doves, have sped away ; 
But they have left their lessons bright 

Upon the page of every day ; 
Illumed with all the good deeds wrought, 
And every noble word and thought. 

Where'er our path may be, if bright 

And smooth, or dark and rough the way, — 

I know that God will lead aright, 
So that we need not go astray, 

If we but seek to do his Avill, 

And our grand mission here fulfill. 

All that we sow we yet shall reap ; 

And glorious will the harvest be, 
If all those holy laws we keep 

Which God has given to you and me ; 
And carry in our bosoms still, 
The angel's sweet refrain — "Good will." 

Here may some living stones be hewn 

For yonder "house not made with hands : 



SUNDAY SCHOOL SEMI-CENTENNIAL. 223 

And many hearts be set in tune 

To sweeter songs of heavenly lands ; 
And many learn to walk the way 
That brighter grows till perfect day. 

May each one here sincerely pray, 
With earnest faith, and humble trust, 

That God will teach us all to lay 

Up treasures where they will not rust ; 

That no corroding sin defile 

Our hearts, or stain our lips with guile. 

Refrain from all deceptive art, 

If you would reach life's highest goal : 

For every motive of the heart, 

And every thought that thrills the soul, 

And aspiration mean or grand ; 

God and the angels understand. 

Be noble, honest and sincere, 
In all you say, and all you do ; 

And be through every passing year, 
To God and conscience ever true ; 

And have sweet charity for all : — 

Rich blessings then will on you fall. 

A holy child of heavenly birth, 
In every human form doth dwell : 

And He who knows its priceless worth, 
Its destiny alone can tell : 



224 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEE T. 

Therefore, judge not the high or low — 
But kindness unto all bestow. 

God's phonograph — the soul of man, 
Records the sinful words we say ; 

And 'tis a part of his great plan, 
That in the coming judgment day, 

Those very sounds again will fall. 

And witness to the Judge of all. 

The soul is one grand telephone ; 

For thoughts by men and angels sent, 
Come sounding forth with thrilling tone 

Through a wide stretch of firmament, 
And flashing down the ages shine 
With light more brilliant and divine ! 

And other souls that search always 
Life's true arcana here to find, 

Rejoice in those God-given rays 

Sent down to cheer and bless mankind ; 

And while they climb the hills of time, 

Accomplish work that is sublime. 

Let us toil on with patient care, 
And do our mission here below ; 

And seek by humble faith and prayer, 
The gifts our Father doth bestow 

On all the children of his love, 

In earth below and heaven above. 



SUNDAY SCHOOL SEMI-CENTENNIAL. 225 

To teach the Truth, and do the Right ; 

Give needed blessings to the poor ; 
Will make our pathway grow more bright 

With love and hope, that will endure 
When holy Eight shall conquer Wrong, 
And Peace sings her triumphant song. 

Help check the downward course of life 
And send it upward pure and strong, 

Be foremost in the ranks of strife 
Against the mighty hosts of Wrong, 

Conscious that thou art all the while 

Receiving God's approving smile. 

For in the city of the blest, 

Where nothing enters to destroy ; 

From toiling we shall pass to rest — 
"With songs and everlasting joy ;" 

And robed with brightness like the sun, 

Hear those approving words — "Well done !" 

And just beyond the pearly gates 
Of that fair world of joy on high. 

Where for us each an angel waits 
Beneath a pure and cloudless sky 

We shall behold each form and face 

All-radiant with celestial grace. 

But you can never enter there, 
Except by purity of heart ; 



226 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

That is your work, no matter where 

You dwell, it is life's noblest part— 
To cast out hate and every sin, 
Till Love and Goodness reign within. 

The shining pathway of the skies 
Is still by loving angels trod ; 

With whose assistance we may rise 
Until we gain that land where God 

Holds sway supreme, by Love Divine, 

That purifies your heart and mine. 

Your cheeks will be by angels kissed ; 

Your life be filled with joy untold ; 
And Heaven's own true Alchemist 

Will change the dross of earth to gold : 
If from the truth you ne'er depart, 
And Virtue keep within the heart. 

Forever upward we may go, 

In shining paths, to heights above, 

Where life and light forever flow 
From the eternal springs of Love ; 

Which carry blessings everywhere, 

That men and angels freely share. 

And where immortal spirits blend 
Their harps and voices in accord, 

They know the chief and highest end 
Of life, is service to the Lord ; 



SUNDAY SCHOOL SEMI-CENTENNIAL. 227 

And they on kindly errands go 
From realms above to realms below. 

A wider range will yet be ours 
In that fair land of endless bliss ; 

With clearer eye and grander powers 
Than mortals ever have in this ; 

We shall the universe explore, 

And God's creative skill adore ! 

The only way to lasting Fame, 

If that is rightly understood, 
Is to love God, and show the same 

To human souls by doing good, 
In harmony with laws we find 
Are written in the heart and mind. 

While here on earth, we need each day 
A fresh baptism of light and love, 

That we may walk the shining way 
That leads to heavenly heights above ; 

Until the spirit soars and sings, 

And drinks from everlasting springs. 

And when illumed in mind and heart, 
A glorious light will round us shine, 

Which will a constant bliss impart, 
Akin to that which is divine ; 

Then while this earthly plain is trod. 

We shall co-workers be, with God. 



228 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

Then will His kingdom be within 
The sacred temple of the soul : 

All purified from stains of siu, 
Ere broken is the "golden bowl," 

Or severed be the silver chain 

That keeps it on the earthly plain. 

And when the veil is rent in twain 

That hides the Holy Land from sight ; 

And when across the starry main 
The spirit takes its upward flight ; 

Then will the blessed angels come 

And guide it to a heavenly home. 

And in that golden city there, 
Built by the Architect Divine ; 

A stately mansion grand and fair, 
May ever be your home and mine ; 

Though quick to go, when Mercy calls, 

Afar beyond those Jasper walls. 

Elysian fields will stretch away 
Before the bright unclouded gaze, 

Where Temples shine in endless day ; 
And we shall pass the gates of praise, 

All-radiant with eternal youth, 

And worship God in love and truth. 

And we shall range to other spheres, 
And study out the thoughts of God, 



IN THAT BRIGHT WORLD, 229 

Through all the bright eternal years, 

And find in circling spheres abroad ; — 
That there is earnest work for all ; 
For Heaven is not a Music Hall ! 



IN THAT BRIGHT WORLD. 



'iffiN that bright world that lies beyond 
s The limit of these changeful years 
Each cherished heart is ever fond, 
And there no eye is dim'd with tears. 



It must be so, — and yet we shrink 
To rend these earthly ties apart, 

To break affection's golden link, 

That binds the loving — heart to heart. 

With joy we'll meet each other there, — 
Those blest ones gone before ; 

And Life and Love together share, 
In harmony — forevermore ! 




POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 



THE CHRISTMAS BELLS. 



5 HERE 'S music in the Christmas bells 
That ring in clear and silvery chimes, 
Till every heart with rapture swells, 

In the sweet hope of happier times ; 
When on our eager listening ears, 
Shall fall the music of the spheres. 

II. 
Chime ever on, sweet Christmas bells ! 

Repeat your melody again ; 
For every thrilling note foretells 

Of "Peace on earth, good will to men;" 
When every wrong that shuns the day, 
Before the light, will flee away ! 

III. 
List, to the music of the bells, 

That floats so sweetly on the air ! 
Till from its living fountain wells 

The spirit's universal prayer : — 
For wisdom, love and power, to rise 
To brighter homes 'neath fairer skies. 



MEMORY. 231 



MEMORY. 

^|HE points me back to golden hours, 
J When all my path was strewn with 
flowers ; 
To childhood's dreams and charming wiles, 
When life was full of joys and smiles. 

Still dear to me is that bright Past— 
I would its joys might always last ; 
But soon those flowers so sweet and fair, 
Have drooped, and lo, a thorn is there ! 

But ever through earth's toil and tears, 
Our pathway leads to brighter spheres ; 
And Hope, in silver tones doth say : — 
"To yon bright land, I light the way." 

All joys and sorrows have their part 
To do for every soul and heart ; 
And all that memory brings to view, 
Is for a noble purpose too. 

Faith points to yon fair home of light, 
To loved ones clad in robes of white ; 
She speaks : — "Be with thy spirit true, 
And there will be bright robes for you ! " 




POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 
MANSIONS. 

"In my Father's house are many mansions." 

aImHERE are mansions fair and bright, 
In a world of endless light : 

In a city grand and fair, 
And no sorrows enter there : 

And within its jasper walls, 
Not a shadow ever falls. 

Earthly mansions may not be 
Homes for those of low degree ; 

But in that fair world on high, 
While eternal years go by ; 

All the pure ones tarry there, 
In the mansions bright and fair. 

Or they roam the fields of light, 
Robed in garments pure and white ; 

Where life's crystal waters flow, 
And unfading flowers grow. 

Time is passing fast away, 

Hour by hour, and day by day : — 



MANSIONS. 233 

May each moment as it flies, 
Bring us blessings from the skies ; 

Making all our pathway bright, 
Till we reach that home of light : 

There to dwell in mansions fair, 
Which a Savior will prepare. 

Love to God, and love to man, 
Is life' s true and noble plan ; 

Lighting up with loving deeds, 
All the vale of human needs ; 

Leading out of want and woe, 
All the weary ones below : 

Thus, and only thus, we rise 
To the mansions in the skies ! 




234 P0E3IS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



THE PICNIC. 



O the shores of Silver Lake, 
Came a pleasant, happy throng ; 
To be merry, and to make 

All the Grove resound with song. 

Here a hundred boys and girls, 

With their faces all aglow, 
Play and toss their flowing curls 

Till the western sun is low. 

Joy go with all these, I see ; 

Ever in life's upward way ; 
That at last their lives shall be 

Fair as lake and skies to-day. 



Toiling for the true and right — 
That shall triumph evermore ; 

May the rays of heavenly light 
Guide them to the blissful shore. 

When they drop earth's fading flowers, 
May each clasp an angel's hand — 

Leading to immortal bowers 

On the bright and golden strand. 



SYMPATHY. 235 

There to walk the shining shore — 
With the breath of summer fan'd ; 

And abide there evermore 

With the pure of that fair land. 



SYMPATHY. 



Pp§OU may true sympathy bestow, 
^Vq If when you feel another's woe, 
Your eyes with kindly tears o'erflow ! 

And by the spirit's mystic art, 
You can a healing balm impart 
Unto the sorrow-stricken heart ! 

By Love's sweet tokens meekly given, 
The darkest clouds are often riven, 
Thus letting in the light of heaven ! 




POEMS BY FEANK SWEET. 



A PLEA FOR TEMPERANCE. 



ATHERS, while yet you have control 
Of your fair sons, teach them the soul 
Was destined for a shining fifoal : 
That all the gifts of earth are given, 
To fit the soul for life in heaven ! 

Teach them to shun the ways of shame, 
That often bring an honored name 
Down from the starry heights of fame ; 
Teach them to shun the cup of woe, 
And dens of vice where drunkards go. 

You see the mighty Tempter stand, 
With glass of ruby wine in hand, 
To lure your sons to join his band ; 
And often with his potent spell, 
He leads to woes no tongue can tell. 

In many paths he sets a snare 
To catch the youthful and the fair, 
And drag them down to dark despair ; 
So millions more than records show, 
Are ruined by this mighty foe. 



A PLEA FOR TEMPERANCE. 237 

With ruthless hands he rends in twain, 
The golden links of love's bright ehain, 
And thrills the purest hearts with pain ; 
He takes away the children's bread, 
And gives them hate and scorn instead. 

In halls of revelry he goes, 
Where wine and money freely flows. 
And with a burning stream of woes 
He often fires the heart and brain, 
With sad remorse and fiercest pain. 

Defiantly he takes his stand 
Where'er he will in all the land ; 
The shaft of death is in his hand, 
And often when the arrow flies, 
Prostrate the man of wisdom lies ! 

Kind Mothers, let your prayers ascend, — 
A helping hand to all extend ; 
And with God's grace, each be a friend 
To those who need your tender en re ; 
And life's true riches you will share ! 

Make wisest use of tongue and pen, 
Transforming all the race of men, 
Till Eden's glory comes again ; 
And earth, redeemed by blood and tears, 
Holds jubilee a thousand years ! 



238 POEMS B T FEANK 8 WEET. 

Press on, in phalanx true and strong, 
Against the marshalled hosts of wrong, 
With earnest work and prayer and song,. 
And never think your mission done, 
Until the victory is won ! 

Use all your power in Church and State > 
And home's sweet joys you can create ; 
For this one purpose good and great — 
To save the young : and your reward 
Be endless glory with the Lord ! 

Young Men, the prophet wisely said — 
* « Look not on wine when it is red : " 
Now heed those words, lest you are led 
Out of the pure and narrow way, 
And in the depths of sorrow stray ! 

Gird on each day, Truth's armor bright, 

And go forth at the mornino* light 

To battle for the true and right ; 

O, be a hero in the strife, 

And you will gain a crown of Life ! 

Now one and all, join heart and hand, 
Be strong and true, a valiant band ; — 
Drive Freedom's foe from our fair land ; 
And then America will be 
In very truth — Land of the Free ! 



'JUDGE NOT" 239 



JUDGE NOT." 



"Judge not, that ye be not judged : For with what judg- 
ment ye judge, ye shall be judged ; and with what measure 
ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." 



M^UDGE not ! the motive lies too deep 

For any human eyes to scan : — 
But may each one a conscience keep 
Pure in the sight of God and man ! 

Judge not ! for none are perfect here ; 

Nor can a righteous judgment ^ive ; 
Till Wisdom in a higher sphere, 

Shall teach a perfect life to live ! 

Judge not ! you can not see Life's goal : 
Nor see how dim the light doth shine 

To guide each upward struggling soul, 
To realms more glorious and divine ! 

Judge not ! for it is better far 
To err on loving Mercy's side ; 

Than try to pluck from heaven a star 
That God himself hath glorified ! 



240 POEMS BY FliANK IS WEET. 



CASTLES. 

g WANDERED down the west ravine 

Where summer flowers were brightly 
glowing, 
When all the vale, with brilliant sheen 
Of golden light was overflowing. 

I painted with the sunset glows, 

A fairy castle, quaint and olden ; 
To please my will, it quick uprose, 

Complete with towers and turrets golden. 

Stained with the sun's last rosy light, 
Outlined by shadows faint and tender, 

In beauty stood my castle bright, 

Whose windows shone with dazzling splendor. 

And thus I saw on cloud and sky, 

The picture of a magic building, 
By fancy wrought to please the eye, 

Resplendent with heaven's own gilding. 

There is a castle, fairer far, 

Built by unfailing love and duty ; 

On it shines glory's beaming star, 
Revealing all its wondrous beauty. 



LETTER ANB SPIRIT 241 

It is not seen with earthly eyes, 
But with the spirit's clearer vision, 

Where fairer fields and brighter skies, 
Bear the impress of the Elysian. 

And every child, by deeds of love — 

If I interpret right the story — 
May gain that blessed land above, 

And share for aye that house of glory. 



LETTER AND SPIRIT. 

The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life." — PAUL. 

MMgATE — is the letter that killeth 
v^3£? In this world of strife ; 
Love — is the spirit that filleth 
The sweet springs of life. 

Hate — is the river of sadness 
That is deep and strong ; 

Love — is a fountain of gladness, 
Full of joy and song. 

Hate — is a fire that burnetii 

Souls of erring men ; 
Love — is the angel that turneth 

Them to God again. 



242 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 



LOVE. 



Mj|N earth below, or heaven above, 
p There is no richer gift than Love. 

To rich and poor, and great and small, 
The love of God is free to all. 

Before the Lord had formed the earth, 
Or yet a single star had birth ; 

Or angel feet had ever trod, 
The golden city of our God ; 

The light of love was everywhere ; 
Its fragrance on the heavenly air : 

For morning stars together sang, 
And all creation's arches rang ; 

When by the power of God's own thought, 
The wondrous works of love were wrought. 

Love shines on all the Summer flowers, 
And all of Autumn's radiant bowers. 

It tints the brilliant clouds of morn, 
And crowns the hills with golden corn. 



LOVE. 246 



And love creates the healthful breeze, 
That sings among the flowers and trees. 

Peace and good-will it doth bestow ; 
And other treasures here below : 



But in the land to which we go, 
Grants richer gifts than mortals know. 

There Love's bright angel kindly waits 
Beside the open pearly gates ; 

There to bestow a robe of white, 
And guide to palaces of light ; 

And lead us by the crystal streams 
Where golden splendor ever gleams ; 

And in the ever vernal bowers, 

Where bloom the sweet unfading flowers 

And banish every thought of care, 
With life's immortal treasures there ; 

And grant us in that world above, 
A home of perfect light and Love. 



244 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



THE SUMMER LAND. 



%y\fj(Vj A beautiful place is the Summer Land ! 
f^S With its sunlit vales, and its mountains 

grand ; 
Where the crystal stream of life ever flows, 
And ethereal light in its beauty glows. 

There the fairest groves that were ever seen, 
Stand arrayed in robes of the richest green ; 
And above them smile the serenest skies, 
In the brightest tints of cerulean dyes. 

There bright angels dwell in the golden light, 
Clad in glistening robes of purest white ; 
Who in ages past, had their primal birth 
Mid the mists and scenes of this lower earth. 

Here they struggled hard with the hosts of sin, 
In the very world that we wander in ; 
But they vanquished ill in the paths they trod, 
And rose to shine as the stars of God ! 

And their placid brows are forever fan'd 
With the healthful breeze of that Summer 
Land ; 



THE SUMMER LAND. 245 

Where the flowers bloom by the singing streams 
That forever flash in the noon-tide gleams ! 

With the holy light of their deeds sublime, 
They illumed their way through aeons of time ; 
And they now rejoice in that land above, 
In the perfect peace of celestial love. 

They have learned to win by a noble strife, 
The sublimest bliss of celestial life : 
In the fires of hate, they have all been tried, 
Ere they rose to shine with the glorified. 

With the glad delight of immortal youth, 
They will drink for aye at the fount of Truth, 
And rejoice to sing in the endless years 
The sweet anthems of the angelic spheres. 

In that land of beauty and wealth untold, 
The bright rivers flow in the streets of gold ; 
And the beautiful trees by the river's side, 
With the choicest fruits are all o'lorified. 

There the odors sweet, from the fadeless flowers, 
Are exhaled among amaranthine bowers ; 
While the crystal waves of life's sparkling 

stream, 
In the glory of heaven ever flash and gleam. 

And the golden spires on the mountain's height, 
Seem to flash and glow in the perfect light, 



246 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 

Where the Golden City forever stands, — 
For the weary pilgrims from all earth lands. 

The bright angels come from that world above, 
With the aureole of their perfect love ; 
Bringing heavenly gifts to the dear ones here ; 
Flashing rays of hope in the mourner's tear ; 

Bringing cheer to hearts that are faint and sad ; 
While they all rejoice to make mortals glad, 
And to open wide the deep springs of joy 
And remove at last all of earth's alloy. 

And oft-times they come to the child of care, 
With answering gifts for the spirit's prayer ; 
And the waves that rise in the troubled breast, 
By their gentle touch are oft lulled to rest. 

Those bright messengers are all sent of God, 
To his children dear, in the spheres abroad, 
To lead them upward in the shining way 
To the golden light of the endless day. 

And we sometimes see them in visions and 

dreams, 
And we stray with them by those purling 

streams 
That are flowing through the fields ever fair, 
And a sweet foretaste of their joys we share. 



ANGELS OF GOD. 247 

We shall go sometime to that Summer Land 
And there meet loved ones on its shining strand, 
Who will welcome us to a home of light, 
Where the fields and skies are forever bright. 

We shall lay at last all our earth-cares down, — 
To receive white robes, and a fadeless crown ; 
Then we shall rejoice with that happy throng 
Of the angel ones, in the Land of Song ! 




ANGELS OF GOD. 

JROM heaven above, to earth below, 
There is a golden ladder thrown ; 
Whereon the angels come and go, 

Though by the world at large unknown. 

Their smiles of joy we may not see 
In silent watches of the night ; 

But brighter will life's pathway be, 
When comes the morning's rosy light. 

On noiseless wings, they quickly bear 
Up to the Father's throne above, 

Each noble thought, and earnest prayer, 
And bring again sweet peace and love. 



248 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 

O, may we all while here be blest 
With service such as they can give ; 

And worthy of an angel guest, 
Each learn a noble life to live ! 

And living thus, each one can claim 
Kinship with angels round the throne ; 

And have at last a bright new name, 
Such as the Lord will give his own. 

They come, quick as a flash of thought, 
From that fair world of joy and peace ; 

And though we recognize them not, 
Their visits here will never cease. 

Though pure and spotless as the dove, 
They go to distant spheres abroad, 

As messengers of light and love 
To every humble child of God. 



The mystic ladder ever stands ; 

And angels in their robes of white 
Will bear above, with gentle hands, 

Pure spirits to the land of light ! 



WHEN ANGELS COME. 249 



WHEN ANGELS COME. 

MypfcHEN angels come from sunny shores 
^yyyp Of realms far o'er the silent sea, 
Where an excess of glory pours 

The streams of gladness full and free, 
And tell of brighter homes and blest, — 
May each one be a welcome guest ! 

A guest that often comes unsought, 
To lure our hearts from earth and sin ; 

With scenes too grand for human thought, 
Of that fair world they wander in, 

With purer streams, and sweeter flowers, 

And grander life than this of ours. 

O, may we welcome them in love ! 

As messengers from God's high throne, 
Sent down from that pure world above, 

To teach us, we are not alone ; 
And that his children ever share 
The riches of his love and care ! 

When morning comes witli golden beams, 
And pours the crystal floods of light 

Upon the earth, and gilds the streams ; 
And dew-drops shine like jewels bright;- 



250 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

O, welcome then, from spheres above, 
Those messengers of light and love ! 

And when amidst the daily strife 
Of cares that fret and chafe the soul, 

Look up to the fair hills of life, 

And seek to reach its shining goal ; 

And know, that by the spirit's prayers, 

You brin^ the angels — unawares. 

When day's last purple smile doth rest 
On hill and plain, and stream and wood, 

And thoughts, the purest and the best, 
Rise to the Giver of all good ; — 

Open the heart's strong gates with prayer, 

And let Sfood angels enter there. 

O, welcome those whom God has sent 

As ministers to us in need ! 
And in the inmost soul, repent 

Of every evil word and deed ; 
And when our sins are all forgiven, 
The angels will rejoice in heaven ! 



GOD IS GOOD. 251 



GOD IS GOOD. 



i^MlRDS on dewy wings, 
IJll In the solitude, 
By the forest springs, 
Carol — God is good. 

Sparkling drops of dew 
On the flowers strewed, 

Teach this lesson too — 
God is ever good. 

While the Summer strays 
Through the leafy wood, 

The soft wind-harp plays — 
God is ever good. 

And we hear it still, 

Where no cares intrude ; 

For each sparkling rill 
Murmurs — God is good. 

Nature's gentle voice, 
Wisely understood, 

Ever says — Rejoice ! 
God is ever s^ood. 




252 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

NIAGARA. 

I. 

i, flow thou on, grand river \ 
Forever and forever ! 
The thunder tones ye send abroad, 
Are echoes of the voice of God ! 
Who every day and hour, 
Proclaims his mighty power ! 

II. 

The rainbow hues are blending 

With thy waters descending ; 
But man has sought in vain to know 
The mysteries of thy depths below, 

Where thy wild waters pour 

Unceasing evermore ! 

III. 

While here I stand and wonder, 

And listen to thy thunder ; 
A grandeur that is most divine 
And royal, seems that of thine : — 

Earth trembles at thy tread ! 

In awe, I bow my head ! 



TRUST IN GOB. 253 



TRUST IN GOD. 

& FRIEND ! I know dark clouds will lower 
fIJ 5 At times around thy path of light ;— 
Then seek, and trust an unseen Power, 
To guide thy foot-steps here aright ! 

No darkness hides the path from those 
Whom God sends forth thy guides to be ; 

And He who knoweth all things, knows 
What needful things are best for thee ! 

So if the skies are dark above, 

And all thy way seems dark below ; 

You can not stray beyond the love 
Of God, and his blest ones, I know ! 

And if thy earthly strength shall fail, 
And sorrows tempt thy soul to stray ; 

If friends forsake, and foes assail ; 
Then ask in faith— O, humbly pray 

For an unfaltering trust in God, 
To look beyond the night of scorn, 

And see that with a chastening rod, 
He guides us to a blessed morn ! 



254 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 



ORCHARD LAKE. 

]N the midst of Orchard lake, 
To this island crowned with light, 
I have brought my pen to take 

Sketches of these scenes so bright. 

O ye echoes of the years 

That long since have passed away : — 
Come and greet my listening ears, 

And inspire my soul to-day ! 

Who did plant the tiny seeds 

Whence these fruitful trees have grown ? 
From His hand the sparrow feeds — 

Were the germs in kindness sown? 

Where the builders of these mounds ? 

Where the prince of bow and spear ? 
Where the "happy hunting grounds" 

They so often prayed for here ? 

Here the barefoot Indian boys 

Played beneath the orchard trees ; 

And the music of their joys, 
Wafted on the Summer breeze. 



ORCHARD LAKE. 255 

And the maidens bathed at noon — 
When the waves danced in the sun ; 

And they gathered flowers of June, 
When the golden day was done. 

Here the dusky lovers strayed 

At the early twilight hour ; 
For their lives, like ours, were made 

Joyous by love's mystic power. 

Here these grand old orchard trees. 
For a thousand moons, have grown ; 

With this gem of inland seas — 

These the red men called their own. 

To the Great Spirit they prayed, 

As the giver of all good ; 
Ere the light of morning strayed 

Through the portals of the wood. 

And the timid deer they sought, 

Far away in glade and glen ; 
Or the perch and pickerel caught 

In these lucid waters then. 

Here the wild grape climbed the trees, 

In those fabled days of old ; 
And the wild flowers kissed the breeze 

With their lips of red and gold. 



266 P0E3IS B Y FRANK S WEET. 

Maidens plied the bark canoe, 

In the long, bright summer days ; 

Or with little else to do, 

Hoed the patch of golden maize. 

Their canoes we see no more ; 

Nor the smoke of wigwams rise ; 
No war-whoop breaks on the shore, 

Nor the swift winged arrow flies. 

Not a track, and not a trace, 
Can we see upon the sands, 

Of the hardy hunter race 

That once owned these orchard lands. 

Often now this crystal lake 

Mirrors well the snowy sail ; — 

Scarce a fairer face can take 
Tints of sunset's golden veil. 

Here will cheerful songs be sung. 
While the years shall come and go ; 

Wit will sparkle from the tongue, 
And the heart with joys o'erflow. 

Here will children wander free, 
And the man of care find rest : — 

So this fruitful isle will be, 

Like the " Islands of the blest." 

Orchard Lake. Oakland Co., Mich., July, 1875. 




SPEAK KINDL Y. 257 



SPEAK KINDLY. 

^PEAK kindly to the little child 
That comes to thee in trusting love ; 
With words and actions pure and mild, 
Instruct it for a home above. 

Speak kindly to the careless youth, 

If such thou seest go astray ; 
Lead them by constant love and truth, 

Into the upward, shining way. 

Speak kindly to the aged one, 

Grieve not the weary care-worn heart ; 
Like golden rays of setting sun, 

Let such in peace and joy depart. 

Kind words and deeds win those who tread 
The dark and irksome ways of sin ; 

And only thus they may be led, 
Life's shining path to enter in. 

Do thus — and when thy labors end 

On earth, thy works of faith and love ; — 

God will his holy angels send. 

And bring thee to His home above. 



258 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET, 



THANKSGIVING. 

LjS&OR this world of wealth and beauty, 
That Thou hast made for man ; 
For this work of love and duty — 

Part of thy gracious plan ; 
For the lights along the valley 
Where willing toilers plod ; 
For the glory on the mountains, — 
I thank thee, O my God ! 

For the beauty of the spring-time 

That smiles on hill and plain ; 
For the floods of golden sunlight, 

And gentle dew and rain ; 
For the wealth of waving forests, 

Whose depths are yet untrod ; 
For the grand and lofty cedars, — 

I thank thee, O my God ! 

For the mine's deep hidden treasures 

Of silver and of gold ; 
For the heart's rich store of pleasures 

That never can be told ; 
For the trees that crown the mountains, 

And flowers that deck the sod ; 



THANKSGIVING. 259 

For the flowing, crystal fountains, — 
I thank thee, O my God ! 

For a thousand singing streamlets 

That sparkle in the light ; 
For the countless starry diamonds 

That deck the brow of night ; 
For the hurricane and lightning 

That make proud monarchs nod, 
And proclaim Thy kingly power, 

I thank thee, O my God ! 

For the treasures of the harvest, 

From garden, field and mead ; 
For the flocks and herds by thousands. 

That in green pastures feed ; 
For the bright flowers of the prairies, 

Whose beauties poets laud ; 
For the wild grape's purple clusters. — 

I thank thee, O my God ! 

And for every thought that flashes 

To light our earthly way ; 
For the lore of all the nations. 

We richly share to-day ; 
For the strong electric currents 

That carry thoughts abroad, 
Swift as arrows from thy quiver, — 

I thank thee, O my God ! 



260 POEMS BT FRANK SWEET. 

For the mountain peaks that glisten, 

Like crystals in the sun ; 
And are robed with elouds of splendor 

When golden day is done ; 
For thy ruling in the nations, 

Not with an iron rod, 
But with tender love and mercy, — 

I thank thee, O my God ! 

For the visits of thine angels, 

From golden spheres of light, 
Coming with their sweet evangels 

To make life's pathway bright ; 
For their version of love's story 

That noble souls applaud, 
While they rise to heights of glory, — 

I thank thee, O my God ! 

For visions of life eternal, 

Seen through the pearly gates ; 
For foretastes of joys supernal, 

For which the spirit waits ; 
And for all thy blessings given. 

To lift up from the clod. 
The aspiring soul to heaven, — 

I thank thee, O my God ! 



ADDRESS TO COLLEGE GRADUATES. 261 



ADDRESS TO COLLEGE GRADUATES. 

wK^OUNG men ! who bid this school adieu : 
|PP^ Hope paints the future bright for you ! 

Now place your mark and standard high, 

And with your noblest powers try 

To win what fortune has in store 

For you and yours, forevermore ! 

There is a broad forbidden way, 

Wherein your feet should never stray ; 

And may you never turn aside 

Into the ways of selfish pride. 

This pleasant world you wander in, 
Is often dark because of sin. 
If you were true in boyhood's hour, — 
O, still be true with manhood's power ! 
Where duty calls, cheerfully go ; 
What conscience doth approve, that do. 
For they who speak and act the right, 
Turn error's darkness into light ; 
And in the path by angels trod, 
Ascend the holy heights of God ! 

With earnest hearts and willing 1 hands, 
Help to improve uncultured lands : 



262 P0E3IS B Y FRANK S WEE T. 

Build homes where peace may ever dwell, 
And love may fill the heart's deep well ; 
And bravely bear, where'er thou art, 
Of life's great work, a noble part ; 
For every good deed here is wrought 
In complement of God's own thought ; 
For which a blessing will be given, 
Unmeasured as the heights of heaven ! 



If you would climb the hills of fame, 
And win a pure immortal name ; — 
Remember, all mankind are brothers ; 
And rise by doing good to others : 
Search out the homes of want and woe, 
And there the needs of life bestow : 
Go, help the weary on their way ; 
Work with a purpose while you may ; 
In Winter's cold, and Summer's heat, 
On mercy's errands speed your feet. 

Whatever calling you pursue, 
This noble purpose keep in view, — 
To speak and work against all wrong, 
And for the right be brave and strong. 
Be true to God, and true to man, 
And be a leader in the van, 
To lead the world to grander heights ; 
And you will shine among the lights, 



ADDRESS TO COLLEGE GRADUATES. 263 

Fed by the pure and living fires 
That God within the soul inspires. 

And now, young ladies ! I would say 
Some pleasant words to cheer your way : 
Though it is true that life is real : 
Yet everything was once ideal. 
Each castle reared by human hands, 
First in its ideal glory stands ; 
Each work of beauty wrought by art, 
Had first an inward counterpart ; 
While music, and the sweetest rhymes. 
Are echoes of the soul's sweet chimes. 

As you go out from learning's halls, 
Keep where the light of heaven falls. 
Let virtue, with an angel grace, 
In every heart and soul find place. 
Be kind to all, and try to bear 
Some part of earthly toil and care. 
Along the vale of human needs, 
Illume your way with loving deeds ; 
In noble efforts do your best ; 
Then will the world and you be blest. 

Lend willing aid in summer hours, 
To cultivate choice fruits and flowers ; 
So that the land which round you lies, 
Will Eden's glory symbolize : 



264 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 

And gentle zephyrs as they roam, 
Will waft sweet odors round your home ; 
And all your life will seem more sweet, 
And full of blessings more complete : 
Fairer the earth on which you tread, 
And brighter far the skies o'er head. 

Let wisdom be your constant guide, 

And purity your highest pride ; 

Then faith and hope, like angels bright, 

Will cheer your way with holy light. 

Unto the poor, where'er they be, 

Extend the hand of charity. 

In fields of science and of art, 

Seek to achieve a noble part ; 

And let your tuneful voices rise 

To swell life's chorus to the skies. 

And now, dear friends, a kind farewell ! 
With friendship more than I can tell : 
May every heart to truth incline, 
And keep where falls the light divine : 
And may you live through all these years, 
Though wearied oft by toil and tears, 
That all your work, when it is done, 
Shall pass with the Eternal One \ 
Who, after all these blessings ^iven, 
Will £ive " the crown of life " in heaven. 




TO THE HOSE. 265 



TO THE EOSE. 

}j|, BLUSHING Rose ! so fair and sweet :— 
I cannot sing thy praise complete ; 

For everywhere 

The balmy air 
Ee veals thy presence, though unseen. 
But I would praise thee as the queen 

Of all the flowers 

That deck the bowers 
Of earth, yea and of heaven too : 
For angels must delight to view 

Thy deep rich hues, 

That drink the dews 
Of their ethereal atmosphere 
That evermore is sweet and clear ; 

Where roses bright 

Bloom in the light 
Of endless day. But here on earth, 
I prize thy beauty and thy worth ; 

Because thy leaves 

A balm receives, 
That gives the blessed boon of health 
To mortals here : and so v thy wealth 

Thou dost bestow 

Where'er ye grow. 



6 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

Thou art the fairest of the flowers 
That bloom among the earthly bowers 

O, blushing Rose ! 

Sweet-scented Rose ! 



SEPTEMBER. 




JSOLDEN September comes at last, 
When harvest work is nearly done ; 
And luscious fruits are ripening fast 
And tinting in the Autumn sun. 

Upward I climb the mountain side 

Now bathed in living streams of light : - 

The soft winds through the forests glide, 
And to their quiet shades invite. 

And here I view a glorious scene ; 

O'er all the hills that stretch away, 
And all the vales that lie between, 

Shine alchemistic tints of day. 

I tread the woodland paths alone, 
A quiet reigns around me now, 

T hear the zephyr's vesper tone, 
And feel its kisses on my brow. 



SEPTEMBER. 267 

A sacred temple is this grove, 
With arching portals open wide ; 

Wherein it is my joy to rove 
And meditate at eventide. 

Kind Nature speaks : I listen here 
To gather truths that are divine ; 

From sounds unheard by mortal ear, 
That fill this wood-embowered shrine. 

While leaves are falling to the ground. 
And Autumn flowers fade away ; — 

I ask, if Life, with blessings crowned, 
Will e'er become as lost as they ? 

Not so, — the spirit never dies ; 

In life's eternal Summer-time, 
Where not a cloud shall veil the skies, 

It glows with youth's immortal prime ! 

And here the flowers again will bloom ; 

The fields again be crowned with corn ; 
And out of Winter's silent tomb, 

Spring Nature's resurrection morn ! 



268 POEMS B Y FBANK 8 WEET. 

A CHRISTMAS CAROL. 

p|jNOTHER joyful Christmas day, 
|3gj/> On wings of light has sped away* 

In purple robe and crimson vest, 
The sun went down the glowing west. 

The clouds lit up with heavenly glow, 
Flashed radiance on the world below. 

But soon the far horizon's fold 
Swung open wide its gates of gold ; 

Then out across the mystic sea, 
In all its royal majesty, 

The sun sped on its trackless way, 
And then were closed the gates of day. 

The air is full of luminous mist, 
Of crimson, gold and amethyst ; 

And down through night's cerulean halls, 
A shower of purest crystal falls. 

Ten thousand stars are in the sky, 
The silver moon is sailing by, 



A CHRISTMAS CAROL. 269 

Baptizing all the hills to-night 

With golden streams of mellow light. 

Long years ago, o'er Judea's plains, 
The angels sang the sweetest strains 

That mortal ears had heard till then : — 
" Peace on the earth, good will to men." 

They made the azure welkin ring, 
With — glory to the heavenly King ! 

The shepherds saw the heavenly throng, 
And were enchanted with their song. 

The wise men saw the herald star, 
And came with offerings from afar ; 

With myrrh, and frankincense and gold, 
And heard the wondrous tidings told : — 

How unto us a child was given, 

To be a peaceful Prince, from heaven. 

O, may that song the shepherds heard, 
Sweet as the carol of a bird, 

Ring on the quiet air to-night ! 
And angels in their robes of white, 

Come down on fancy's golden stair. 
With heavenly gifts for all to share. 



270 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 

With joyful voice, and tuneful bells, 
And with the organ's lofty swells, 

Let that grand melody arise 
And fill the temple of the skies ! 

Sing, O ye children, pure and bright ! 
For Christ is surely here to-night ; 

Although you did not here to-day. 
With olive branches strew his way ! 

Pray for the child of want and woe, 
That all its path may brighter grow. 

And know the prayers in heaven are heard, 
That spring from action more than word. 

O, holy men, pray with Him now 
Who watched alone on Olivet's brow ! 

Pray till the wanderer's feet have trod 
The pathway of the Son of God. 

Pray for the strength to do your part 
In Church and State, and busy mart. 



Then ring the bells in all the towers 
Of all this blessed land of ours ! 



Ring in the good time yet to be — 
Of purer thought and liberty. 



A CHRISTMAS CAROL. 271 

Go minister to those in need, 
With loving word, and noble deed ! 

Do what the Savior bids you do, 
And be to conscience ever true. 

Dispense your royal gifts to-night, 

To make some hearts and homes more bright. 

Then bring true love, the brightest gem, 
To sparkle in his diadem. 

No ancient prophet, priest or king, 
A richer gift to him could bring ; 

Nor yet the strictest Pharisee, 
Proud of his broad phylactery ; 

Nor heaven's grandest seraphim, 
Could bring a richer gift to him. 

Bestow your gifts, retaining still, 

The angel's sweet refrain — "good will." 

And making all good things your choice, 
Press ever upward, and rejoice ! 

O, women pray, who pray aright, 
For blessings on the world to-night ! 

Pray that a voice from tongues of flame, 
Be heard in lowest depths of shame : 



272 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

That all who walk the ways of sin, 
Life's shining path may enter in. 

Bow down in temple, church and hall ; — 
Pray for the love which circles all : 

Then sing the anthem of the skies, 
Till every echoing hill replies ! 

And O, ye angels ! come again, — 

Sing — ' ' Peace on earth, good will to men : " 

Till every hill, and vale, and plain, 
Are vocal with the glad refrain ; 

Until all human lives repeat, 

In word and deed, your chorus sweet ; 

Whose melody will never cease — 

Till all the earth is crowned with peace ; 

And wears the glow of Eden's youth, 
When men shall worship God — in Truth ! 



GONE. 273 



GONE. 



3^(kUSHED is the voice of mirth,- 
Life's silver cord is riven ; 
One cherub less on earth, 
One an^el more in heaven. 



*er 



Up to those heights above, 
She's gone, but not forever : 

The holy ties of love, 

E'en death can never sever. 

Arrayed in robes of white ; 

Endowed with clearer vision ; 
She comes from realms of li^ht 

To tell of joys Elysian. 

And bring the light and peace 
That shine beyond those portals, 

Where love can never cease, 
But grows with the immortals. 

She comes to cheer our way ; 

To soothe the touch of sorrow ; 
To point beyond To-day, 

Into the glad To-morrow. 



274 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 



ANGELS. 



JM&NGEL voices sweet and clear, 
Such as I delight to hear, 
Bring; me blessed words of cheer, — 
And I rejoice ! 

And they fill this soul of mine 
With a love that is divine ; 
And the pathway that doth shine, 
I make my choice. 

Oft they come to me at night, 
In their shining robes of white, 
And they flood my path with light 
From spheres on high. 

Come, and teach me what to do, 
In this pathway I pursue, 
With a glorious home in view — 
Beyond the sky ! 

Teach me also what to shun ; 
How my earthly course to run, 
While ascending one by one 
The steps to heaven ! 



ANGELS. 275 

By the loving angels led, 
While this earthly vale we tread, 
All the dark clouds overhead, 
With light are riven. 

I rejoice, O God of love ! 
That thou sendest from above 
To each soul, an angel-dove, 
Its life to cheer ! 

Coming from the golden land, 
On a mission good and grand, 
They lead to the shining strand 
Of their bright sphere. 

Swifter than an arrow flies, 
Outward through the starry skies, 
Oft they bring a sweet surprise 
From worlds above. 

From the heavenly atmosphere, 
Come the blessed angels here, 
Giving words of hope and cheer, 
And ceaseless love. 

Telling of a brighter place 
In the shining realms of space, 
Where in love's divine embrace 
The dear ones meet. 



276 POEMS B Y FRANK 8 WEET. 

O, they tell of sunny hours, 
And of bright immortal bowers 
Where the ever-blooming flowers 
Are fair and sweet ! 

Where the ever-living soul, 
Freed at last from sin's control, 
While the endless ages roll, 
Shall dwell in light ! 

While it may, on Wisdom's stair, 
Eise to heights more grand and fair, 
Through eternal aeons there 
Where all is bright. 

When the spirit here shall be 
From its earthly fetters free, 
Father ! wilt thou send to me 
An angel guide, 

Leading on from star to star, 
Till it shall, in realms afar, 
Where thy glorious mansions are — 
Be glorified ! 



CHILDREN. 



CHILDEEN. 




YE Children ! come to me 
In your innocence and glee ; 
For I love the songs you sing, 
In the glory of life's Spring ! 

In your sunny atmosphere, 

Birds are singing sweet and clear ; 
Flowers bloom around your way, 

And your lives are blithe and gay. 

O, I love your smiling faces ! 

And your sweet and tender graces ; 
For the joys they oft impart 

In rich measure to my heart . 

May your pathway here be bright 
With the gleams of heavenly light ; 

And your choicest mottoes be, — 
Wisdom, love, and purity ! 

May good angels guide you here, 
Up to their celestial sphere ; 

That in their fair home of light, 
You may wear the robes of white ! 



278 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 



A VISION. 

^MnkNCE I saw with spirit-vision, 
f/^9 Glorious views of fields elysian 

Bathed in holy light : 
Crystal streams there flowed along, 
Singing an immortal song 

In the valleys bright. 

And I saw the purest fountains 
Springing on eternal mountains, 

More than Eden fair ; 
And I walked with angels bright, 
Clad in robes of snowy white, 

In the city there, 

And I heard the sweetest singing, 
From the heart and spirit springing : 

All things seemed so grand, 
That methought my soul had found 
A place with the seraphs crowned, 

In the Summer Land. 

Would that I could tell the story, 
Of the radiance and glory 
That forever shine 



A VISION. 279 

On those fields and crystal streams, 
Grander than our brightest dreams ; 
For they are divine. 

All pure souls will share the pleasure, 
And the wealth of heavenly treasure, 

That are kept in store ; 
Which our Father up above, 
In the kingdom that we love, 

Will give evermore. 

Death — is but the shining portal 
That we pass to Life immortal, 

In that land above : 
If we do our duties here, 
We shall gain that happier sphere, 

With its bliss and love ! 

There are life and light eternal, 
Love and peace, and joy supernal, 

In the spheres abroad ; 
And with loved ones gone before, 
A bright home forevermore 

For each child of God ! 



280 POEMS BY FRANK SWEET. 



NEW YEAR'S EVE. 

gM&LL hail the year, the glad New Year ! 
That cometh swift and sure ; 
And pray that while it tarries here, — 
May peace and joy endure ! 

May we through all the golden hours, 

Be loving, true and kind ; 
For they who task the' nobler powers, 

Life's sweetest bliss shall find ! 

And may we all true wisdom learn, 

And nature's laws obey ; 
And joyful good, for ill, return — 

To light the upward way ! 

And every wrong we have received, 

May each one now forgive ; 
And try with all whom we have grieved, 

More lovingly to live ! 

O, Father ! we would thankful be, 

For blessings we receive ; 
And tracing every gift to thee, — 

Rejoice, this New Year's Eve ! 



WILL YOU/ 281 




WILL YOU? 



jjffifmLL you love me with constant love, 
Love tender, sweet and true ; 
If I prize you all others above, 
And grant that gift to you ? 

And go with ine along life's way 

Where wisdom kindly leads ; 
And make our pathway bright each day 

With loving words and deeds ? 

And share with me the good and ill 

The future has in store ; 
And toiling on with patient will, 

For blessings evermore ? 

Then I will ever try to be 

As tender, kind and true ; 
And grant for all your gifts to me, 

As much — or more — to you ! 



282 POEMS B Y FRANK S WEET. 



TO THE POETS. 
I. 

tEJOICE, Poets ! rejoice ; 
For unto you is given 
The pleading heart and voice 
That bring the fire from heaven, 
To melt away the dross of sin, 
From this fair world you wander in ! 

II. 

Rejoice, O Poets ! for you 

The stubborn human will, 
Have power to subdue, 
And every soul to thrill 
With love and hope and joy divine : — 
Rejoice, that such a gift is thine ! 

III. 

Rejoice, O Poets ! for thou 

Art evermore allied 
To those bright souls that now 
Drink of Life's crystal tide. 
In yon fair land of endless morn, 
Where all the purest thoughts are born ! 



TO THE POETS. 283 

IV. 
Rejoice, Poet-, sublime ! 

For those sweet songs you sing, 
Ring through the halls of Time, 
And evermore will fling 
Athwart the world that is to be, 
The golden veil of Charity ! 

V. 

Rejoice, O Poets ! for Fame 

Weaves garlands fair for thee : 
Your word- are winged with flam*- 
Of immortality ! 
Sing on, till all from error freed, 
Accept Love's universal creed ! 

VI. 
Rejoice. Poet- ! though you 

Are not well understood ; 
Climb to a grander view, 
And vanquish ill with good ; 
And flash the light of Truth abroad. 
Ye holv ministers of God ! 



284 POEMS BY FBANK SWEET. 



INVOCATION. 




GOD ! of wisdom , love and light ! 
As thou hast made my pathway bright ; 
My heart and voice to thee I raise, 
In humble thanks, and grateful praise ! 

Teach me to walk the upward way, 

So that my feet may never stray ! 
Give wisdom, truth and love divine, 
So that my path may ever shine ! 

And of thy blessings grant a share 

To all thy children everywhere ! 

Till all shall seek, while here below, 
The priceless gifts thou canst bestow ! 

O, give me strength to do thy will, 

And climb to heights diviner still ! 
And all along life's shining way, 
Help me to do some good each day ! 

O, touch my soul with holy fire ! 

And grander thoughts, by far, inspire ; 
Till in celestial spheres above, 
I share thy purer light and love ! 



